A love note of sorts…

Dear Minneapolis,

I’m saying this because I love you. Fuck you.

I’d like to profess exactly the degree to which I love you…

Water Pressure: I would like to first and foremost say ‘hey thanks for the water’ because I know I could be without, I also know that given the pegging order, the man that lives above me is seeing more pressure than a bad call from a ref at the super bowl. I on the other hand have seen more pressure at little league games.

Water Heat: Thank you for being about as reliable as any ex boyfriend. You consistently show up when I’m almost done giving a rats ass, and dissapear when I need you most. I’m not demanding hot, bitch I’ll take lukewarm, but the fact of the matter is I’m climbing up my shower pipe like a fucking monkey with a lighter trying to take a 33.2 second shower with warmer water than the titanic faced.

Water Quality: Horseshit. I’ve tasted better toilet water (don’t ask), our filtration system in the city is about as good as the Catholic church’s when they choose who they will allow to be a priest… When I can actually taste the sediment and build up of the rust inside my faucet is when I really begin to fall in love all over, I’m not sure if its the brassy taste my food has, or the new found dryspots all over my body for the simple fact that there is more shit in that water than any biff will see in its lifetime.

Street Parking: you are a hooker in expensive boots – deceptively promising. “Park Here” means we’re going to tow your ass eventually, and if you’re parked anywhere near the no parking zone…not in it, but near it…you’re getting a ticket. In my neighborhood they should be looking for the people standing right next to my car on the street corner dealing crack…but instead little blue focus gets yet another ticket – money makers, even if the ticketing isn’t correct.

Potholes: Buy me a new set of tires you fucks. Those things aren’t even potholes, they have now morphed into sink holes that someone dropped their baby in last week and she aint coming back anytime soon. Don’t even try to dodge them because 1 of 3 things will happen, your car will undoubtedly go into another unseen pothole, you’ll hit another car, or even better; youll hit another pedestrian. When diving into these potholes make sure you’re wearing your seatbelt and safety gear for when you have to pull your car over to retrieve your bumper at the last asphalt recession where your bumper lies because it ate shit.

Cars that honk: We know. You’re more fucking important than anyone else here, and your seniority should be our main priority i’m so sorry I ever thought to get in your way. Oh and next time you lay on that horn, I’m going to get out of my car, skip to yours and break your fucking arms off. Let’s see you toot your horn now fuck face.

Bike Thief: If you attributed even 1/8 of energy it took you to break that complicated lock into finding a fucking job – you could run this city. But instead you choose the low road, I can’t blame you considering it is easier to swipe a bike and sell it for crack then it would be to actually apply yourself to benefit from life, but hey you aren’t a waste of space; you are a wonderful human being with many gifts and talents. Talents being picking locks and gifts being: give me my fucking ride back. Like I’m not going to notice a poorly dressed poorly educated individual riding around the neighborhood on a 1960’s huffy beach cruiser? Way to blend in. Oh and PS- it may look like its worth something but you’ll be madly dissapointed when you realize I got it for 20 bucks dick.

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