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The Gas Station

So I was just chillin at the convenient store/Gas Station mindin my own business when I realized that I had somewhere more important to be. So naturally I start walkin out and as im walkin out, the store clerk starts talkin to me, like, ‘sir, you need to pay for that gum.’ And I’m all, ‘dude, wtf are you talkin bout?’ and I just keep walkin.  And this guy, he keeps talkin. And right as I hit the door, he yells out ‘THAT GUMS NOT YOURS, I’M GOING T-” and by that point I was out the door. I tell ya, I can’t stand some of those gas station attendants. They think the world is all theirs or something, like because you messed up and ended up at that job, I owe you something. Naw dude, you got it all wrong.

So im walking down the street, and like, not to far from the gas station, this big dude in a white shirt and green slacks starts yellin at me too. I dont know what it is today. And this guy, he does this dumb a** wave at me, all like reachin out for a high five or somethin, and I can hear him look at me and shout out “STOP!” This dude, with is face, looks SO confused, so I point at myself, and i’m like “KEVIN!” And he just yells “STOP!” again, and I’m like “my name is KEVIN!” and he was like “YOUR UNDER ARREST!” and im like, “Im under a what?” and I explain to him “Dude, I don’t know what country your from, but i’m from America, and here we speak American, and if you don’t like it you can get out and go somewhere else.” and then he pulled a fricken tazer gun out on me, and tried shooting me- except it was a dud. And now im like, damn, I better get running, cause this guys seriously wants to hurt me. So I book it down the road, and I keep running, and it seems like this guy is loosing gain on me. And then like, I after passed Baskin Robbins over by highway 301 and Desoto, and he just gave up or disappeared or something.

Yeah, pretty exciting day or whatev’s; but anyway, that gum wasn’t all that great at all. That ‘long lasting flavor’ crap is pretty over-rated.

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People showed up to Wall Street to stand around and hold a sign. Not just any kind of sign though;  a funny sign. Maybe a sign with a pun, possibly eluding to ‘something more’ in terms of layers of meaning- with a dick joke in it, even.

Everyone wanted everyone else to know about their sign. If the signs weren’t funny, they were really vague. If they weren’t really vague, they had nothing to do with the protest (See “I Shaved my balls for this?!/bring back crystal pepsi!” guy). Most of them were economically or politically orientated. Others, not so much.

Some people made signs that broke the fourth wall and talked about the sign, on the sign. Because, you know, why not?

After they all showed up with their signs, they then took a bunch of pictures of themselves holding their signs, and then put those pictures of them and their signs on the internet. Everyone on the internet couldn’t stop talking about those signs, and how neat they were. They thought they were so neat, that everyone on the internet made their own signs. They were the best signs I had ever seen.

For a second there, the signs made me feel like we got some real work done out there. It was like everyone had there own personal blurb, their own chip on their shoulder, said anything that came to their mind, and that none of the signs had any strict coherence between them as to what course of action should be taken with whatever the hell it was they were all complaining about.

And hell, imagine the huge cleanup bill that the 1% of the rich people are going to have to cover for when everyone goes back home and leaves all their signs and trash in the streets. Wallstreet wont know what hit’em.

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