1. Illiterate activism at its finest. Couple this with the FAB “Sticky” FIVE “Finga” Freddy and you got yourself a real big pile of shit. Seems like the Universe is pushing your patience pretty fucking hard there MR. RIme. Guess your gonna have to break the world off something real proper to set um straight. WHAT IT DO?

  2. Where they blind? Couldn’t they see a huge mural? Maybe they burners literally burnt the retinas out of their eyes. Fucking idiots. The posters I understand where for a good cause but seriously, what the fuck man.

  3. The other night at a bar, a mediocre shit-stain of a “vandal” accosted me once he heard me talking about banana tips (all he knew was that they went on a spray can)… He was a stencil “artist” and proceeded to show me on his little phone his absolute primary level stenciling (most of which was on cardboard in his house)… I dodged him like the little wet dog he was and let him think I was somewhat impressed… His little balls grew bigger and he again thought it would be cool to pry into why graffiti writers use a name, moniker, nom de plume or what have you… He stated that was not “art”… I tried in vain to explain the game, tags, throw-ups, up the ladder to burners with style… He wasn’t having any of it, so I told him that he can go to the yard in El Paso where I started, throw up some stencils at and see what happens… I also told him that there is a “slang-term” amongst graffiti artists called “toy”, and that he should look it up… I proceeded to shoot pool and ignore him at that point… I hope he looks it up… I hope he doesn’t like it… I hope he sees me afterward and wants another explanation…

    • here’s where that “wet dog” comes from… Substitute the “her” or “she” in this poem for that mindless toy who hasn’t gotten the face spanking they deserve.

      Nobody here likes a wet dog.
      No one wants anything to do with a dog
      that is wet from being out in the rain
      or retrieving a stick from a lake.
      Look how she wanders around the crowded pub tonight
      going from one person to another
      hoping for a pat on the head, a rub behind the ears,
      something that could be given with one hand
      without even wrinkling the conversation.
      But everyone pushes her away,
      some with a knee, others with the sole of a boot.
      Even the children, who don’t realize she is wet
      until they go to pet her,
      push her away
      then wipe their hands on their clothes.
      And whenever she heads toward me,
      I show her my palm, and she turns aside.
      O stranger of the future!
      O inconceivable being!
      whatever the shape of your house,
      however you scoot from place to place,
      no matter how strange and colorless the clothes you may wear,
      I bet nobody there likes a wet dog either.
      I bet everyone in your pub,
      even the children, pushes her away.
      – Billy Collins (current U.S. poet laureate), from Picnic, Lightning (pub 1998)

  4. if you soak it all with warm water it will reverse the glue and loosen it up . then you can take off the shit . provided they have used cheap home made glue flour & water . Pancakes not fried .

  5. I take no offense to this (I’m gay). That would be totally fucking enraging. I do wheat pasting/stickers and also aerosol work. But when I wheat paste I make sure what I’m going over isn’t a totally killer artwork. (I just go over NAND posters and walls… Occasionally a tag)

  6. A little late on this one – usually not a proponent for violence but this kind of shit is unacceptable. These types have no technical skills or put in any work, those ladders could get tipped easy

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