Another snow emergency, another evening of fucking with people's parking spot savers.
Wheeeee.
Look, dillholes. We've been living in this "I got mine, so you can go screw" mode for too damn long. The idea of "saving" a parking spot on a public street by leaving a broken chair, a trash barrel, or some of piece of crap in it is an illustration that you are not willing to live in a society with other hominids. You won't sacrifice for the common good. You want the benefits, but you won't even do the work of being a good neighbor.
It's simple. I shovel out a spot. Just one, even though my building houses twelve people. You shovel out one spot. And so on. Shazaam! Every spot on the street gets shoveled out. Parking is now as easy as on any summer day.
But no. You gotta be the caveman who won't take his turn on Sabretoothed-tiger watch. You're probably also the type that falls asleep and lets the precious fire go out. Ass.
So, to the dude who saved his spot with a broken recycling bin: C'mon, man. That thing was so easy to toss into the alley three houses down, you weren't really even trying to protect that spot...
To the person who saved their spot with a large chunk of broken wooden stairs, with nails sticking out: Well played, Mr. Bond. I really don't know how I'm going to deal with that. I may have to retreat to my secret lab and do some computer modeling...
To the person who saved their spot with the trash barrel: I see you found your barrel from when I tossed it over your neighbor's fence during the last snowstorm. And this time, you've filled the barrel with chunks of concrete to make it harder to move. I moved it anyway. Rage has made me strong. You should also know that I have a dog. I walk her late at night. And next time, instead of conscientiously scooping the poop like I normally to, I will liberally apply it to the handles of your space-saving garbage bin. Have a great morning, fuckhead.
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