Occupy My ASS!

Yesterday, I was down by Union Square Park, which is where the Occupy Wall Street crew has migrated. Those Occupiers are really something. One girl was wearing ratty, cropped khakis with no shoes, and in between taking drags on her cigarette, she was blowing a vuvuzela. First of all, if you’re not trying to be the most abrasive, fucking irritating person of all time, then don’t blow a freaking vuvuzela. The sound of it makes me feel like my spine has been severed. My first instinct was to go over to her and punch her lights out, but then I saw someone even stranger: a real, live WARLOCK dressed in a purple robe and weird pointy hat staggering around with incense in his hand. Can someone please explain to me how dressing up like Snape and burning Nag Champa is going to help fix our economy? GRR!