To the barely-legal drunk girls who got the #7 bus on Saturday outside the Split Crow, it was bad enough that we had to listen to at least three drunk phone calls and twenty minutes of puking into a plastic bag (although watching you fall out of your seats everytime the bus stopped was amusing), but you actually left behind your bag of VOMIT. I feel terrible for whoever ended up cleaning up your revolting self-indulgent mess. Completely disgraceful. It wasn’t even seven o’clock!
This article appears in Apr 10-16, 2008.
Karma’ll get ’em and then some. People who don’t believe in karma haven’t lived long enough to see it work.