The strangely proficient City of Oakland Parking Enforcement (quite possibly the ONLY sect of city government even remotely capable) ticketed my fucking car again. Gazing up, I located the hidden parking sign... Angr.r.r.r.y.y.y.y. Walking to public transportation, I pissily pass by newly built condo eye-sores and ABANDONED buildings with you know, CHARM, and wade through GARBAGE and HUMAN PISS, I calculate my reluctant monetary contributions have probably paid an entire year's salary to one of these city employees, and I realize PARKING will be the end of Oakland and certainly the end of San Francisco and it's all derived from this same sick cycle of greed and laziness. Consumerism. Cars. Fuel. Iraq. Condos. Gentrification. Kitch. Marketing. Fucking bicyclists wearing spandex in public. And I threaten to move to Canada, but that's too predictable for a white person to threaten.
Oh, shut it! Elly. Eat your locally grown chemical-free juicilicious Satsuma, hypocritically continue to locate parking for your gas-pillaging car, and UNDERSTAND! it could always be worse, and somewhere in the world, possibly in Canada, it is.
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