go home, tourist scum

Spring. When vast, frozen wastelands turn into giant, soggy fields of mud. You'd think this is a good thing...birds sing, flowers bloom, squirrels come out of hiding.

You'd be wrong.

Birds shit on your head, a fact we all conveniently forget when the only thing falling from the sky is ice. Flowers make you sneeze. Okay, they make me sneeze, but judging by the other people I see with red eyes staring out from behind soggy Kleenex tissue I'm comfortable assuming I'm not alone in my misery, so flowers suck, okay? And squirrels? Poor bastards are too stupid to cross with the light.

Also, there are tourists, which is really just a nice way of saying Very Stupid People. How else do you explain the jackass who stood in the middle of a crosswalk in the middle of an insanely busy intersection and stared skyward for no apparent reason? In a Yankees shirt? With A-Rod's number on it?? I think the squirrels are smarter than this guy.

Then, there was this conversation with Very Stupid Person Number Two.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where Brattle Street is?"
"The street your standing on?"
"No, Brattle Street."
"Yes, the street you're standing on."
"NO. You don't understand. I'm trying to find Brattle Street!"
"Oh, Brattle Street. No, no idea where that is."

Mor.ON.

Or maybe I'm just a bitch.