Punks

THE FUCK IS THIS??????

It's fucking chalk!

Powdered chalk!

Obviously a rhetorical statement, unlikely to mean "Your Best Friend."

What shit!
Is there a new gang on Education Hill?
A gang of petty chalk thieves who are hesitant to ascend from mischief to actual vandalism, yet have no problem representing their set with hasty, improvised scribbles, which can totally be fine tuned on the fucking free-wall at the skate park?

Parents of the Hill,
YOU ARE RAISING A CROP OF LAZY, CALLOW, BITCH-ASS PUNKS!

If your part-time-thug, little pricks were to step over these letters and continue 1.8 miles down the trail, they'd likely get their chubby butts brutally beaten, and sodomized with pickets salvaged from city council, elections signs, by the feral children of the trailer park in "Little Mexico" (Police term) who run up and down Avondale barefoot, playing with fire and broken glass all day.

-Neighbor out.

Daylight Savings

Well here's a picture I took at 5:20pm, on the first shit jog, of the first shit day, of our dark, shit winter.

The new street lamp, at the 110th crossing, seems to be doing it's job well.  

Unlike some area rich people who shit in my streets.  

Set your clocks back.

-Neighbor out.

Happy Halloween

Please take only one.

-Neighbor out.

UPDATE

My aggression has infected the hearts of your children.



-Raisin Faggot out.  

Observed Trend

Oh neat!

Some selfish fuck replaced my palm with the damaged bollard.  

My neighborly neighbor pointed out that the staple was probably sawed off, instead of clipped off, because the ends are not pinched.  

That probably took forever to cut.  

I bet when he was cutting the second side, he stopped caring about the passing cars.

Now that the bollard is back in place, can you see how the ravaged staple no longer aligns with the grey, square hasp?

That's because the fucking pig, who stole our palm, didn't clean all the dirt from the planter.  

What a furious, selfish thief.  

Aww, I love when my aggression corrupts others.  

-Neighbor out.

Thwarted

These awful sunglasses, and this key, I took with me to the trail today.  

They are symbols of my aggression. 

Usually I take nothing to the trail, but my jogging gear.  

Those of you waiting for the berry's to ripen can probably understand that I've waited, a very long week, to reep what I've sewn on the trail... and it's a beautiful seafair Saturday.

With the bollard in sight, I was so excited to get a look at the trail.

Mother Fucker vitiated the bollard!

The lock is gone, and one of the boats is gone.

That shitty fucking asshole couldn't get through my lock, so he sabotaged the staple.

Twice!

The bollard was not his to modify and the lock was not his to take... but it is Seafair weekend, after all.

I lost my shit for a second.  I got really pissed.  

I got really, really, really pissed.

Really fucking pissed.

I would never fuck with the guy's house, but I did walk passed the front of it.

He's not even at Seafair!!!!!!!

I'd like to think that sabotaging the bollard took so long that he missed the opportunity to launch his boat at a sensible time.

Maybe it ruined his Seafair, the same way he ruined part of the trail.  

Being that this guy has rendered the middle bollard obsolete, I have planted a fucking palm in its place.  

I think it's really quite lovely.  

Look!  You can still see it all the way over there.

Hi Palm!!!!!

-Neighbor out.

The Power of Action

This is the narrow opening to the trail on the west side of 104th.

These are called Bollards, and they're used to obstruct motor vehicles.

When a vehicle needs to access the trail, the bollard in the middle is unlocked and removed.

This one looks locked, but it's actually not.

These boats belong to a guy who figured out how to remove the unlocked bollard (around 9:45pm last wednesday night) in the dark.

This is Seafair weekend.

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This is a $15 lock which you can get at Home Depot.  

Enjoy your beloved Seafair, Guy Who Parks His Boats On The Trail.

-Neighbor out. 

Off the Trail

I get a yellow card for laughing hysterically at a small child when instead I should have said, "Hey Kid, stop struggling, look at the ground, and your head will slide right out of that clown themed, photo stand-in."

Honestly, though, seeing a wooden clown with the face of a crying child made my Derby Days Weekend.  

His dad freed him before I could take a picture.  

The City of Redmond gets two yellow cards, this week.

The first, is given, sorta by default, because I don't know who to blame for this ignorant shit.

Inflatable, star spangled, assault rifles.  

I kinda hope they came over, from China, already inflated.  

I like to imagine the smell of an impoverished, child laborer's bronchitis making the moment this toy pops, that much more memorable, for the little turd who pointed one at me.

The second yellow card goes straight to the fire department.

I came home to an empty yard waste bin, anticipating that I'd stuff it full of weeds.

Instead, I stuffed it half full of lopped shrub, because the fire department hacked up the yard around the fire hydrant.  

DICKS!!!!

I was out at midnight, last night, stuffing my consenting neighbor's bin full of my yard waste overflow, for today's pickup.  

Something I wouldn't have been able to do if my consenting neighbor wasn't so fucking neighborly.

I understand that the hydrant mustn't be obscured by brush but leaving the branches on the sidewalk, for me to pick up, is not very neighborly, nor is it becoming of civil servants who sit around and lift weights all day.

-Neighbor out.