By all means....

When needing to loudly hawk up a lung - man in back of me - by all means spew phlegm into the garbage can at the mall.

INSIDE the mall.

IN THE TRASH BIN.

Out IN PUBLIC.

Said garbage can a mere inches away from EXTERIOR door he (I checked, it wasn't the swimmer from my last phlegm episode) was leaving through 3 seconds later where one could have grossly spit on grass. But noooo. Or go for broke and actually have a tissue. Well, no, that would be bizarre world. Soon there will be trains with the one "no spitting" section you pay extra to sit in like in China.


Where is our civilization going?  Flinging poo? (Bazinga!)

I mean okay you have low rider jeans and you want to show your crack with the scroll flower tattoo and bits that ought not be shown in places of work. Still? Quite lovely, Brazilian? I've seen your preference of  blue bubble gum while waiting at my table. I've heard your "s'up?" when I walk into your store. I've seen oodles of texting mid conversation, loud blue teeth imaginary unimportant conversations about which lettuce to bring home, and of course texting while driving is always a welcome sight.

Nothing says LOL like death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I went to the cinema recently, hadn't been in quite a long time.

I am the one. I am the one that will turn around and tell you to shut the ever loving up. That would be me.

I'm sure there are more of us out there, we will form an army.

Flingers of poo.






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