In college, there was a certain fraternity known for dragging a ratty old couch around campus. That couch went to soccer games and football games. It sat in the quad where as many people as possible would pile up on it. I’m sure it had a sperm bank’s worth of junk juice and a brewery’s worth of beer sopped up in it’s cushioned depths. (Ok, sorry, that was gross. But you know how frat boys are.) All of this to say, Thug Life has positioned an equally ratty and definitely sketchy sofa on their sorry excuse of a front lawn where they use the couch and their cars as furniture.
As far as I can tell, the couch and cars are the best vantage points for watching your friends nosegrind their skateboards into the pavement and layup beer bottles into the Dumpster. Husband keeps threatening to pee on it when they’re not looking, but they keep taking it inside or locking it on the patio when they’re not using it. I fully expect to see some girl in a tube top rocking the world of some Thug out there one of these nights. Don’t worry – I’ll take pictures and post them all over the interwebs. Thug Life doesn’t have air conditioning, so how can they have internets? And besides, Thugs with access to the internets don’t spend all their time ripping Ollies in the parking lot and dragging couches outside. They’re inside watching pron like normal Thugs.
I realize I don’t live in a yuppie condo complex. I get that the apartments down the block are all Section 8 and everytime I see someone come out of there with a dog, the dog is ALWAYS a non-neutered pit bull on a CHAIN with a choke collar. Fine, so the kids in the apartments next door think a good time involves riding down the hill in a cart stolen from Wal Mart. Our condo was a foreclosure and was in such bad shape that not only did we not have any light fixtures, but they’d taken the little piece that holds the toilet paper on the holder. I can live with that. But I’m not a fan of seven Thug Lifers and their Tube Top Tarts cluttering up my neighborhood with their skateboards and couches and beer bottles and cigarette butts and so on and so forth.
Get offa my lawn, you stupid kids.