Reading Material.

So I'm taking a piss.

Wait there's more.

I'm at Timmys with the Sidekick, and as per usual after an Extra-Large Coffee, I head to the restroom. There I proceed to go about my business, and whilst doing so I look, as one normally does, around the urinal for something to stare at other than my own penis.

( Not that it's not interesting to look at, it's just that I've seen it countless times, and familiarity breeds contempt.)

There's nothing there.

Now years ago, it seemed that every restroom you entered was covered with jokes, pictures, witty sayings, and the occasional request for follow-up meetings. A virtual town history could be told from it's bathroom walls. Who loved who. Who was a skank, and who was frigid. There were even requests to help others by flushing twice, since that area needed more water. You found out who was where on what date, and even got to see up and coming artists show off their budding skills at drawing the human anatomy.

Nowadays there's nothing.

Oh, I'm not saying the bathrooms are clean, just that no one seems to have the creativity or the wherewithal to contribute to this "bulletin board" anymore. Where did all these people go? Did they just put away their markers and give up? Nobody could even scratch the paint with their keys?

This could be a foreshadowing a bigger problem: lazy kids.

If these punks can't even drum up the energy to properly vandalize public property, then how are they going to take care of me in my old age?

Fuckin' Punks.

Later.