The Jesus likes to cut the bullshit, you know? So I'll ease into the pool with a brief airing of DC grievances:
1) The Tourists
I'm not 100% positive, but I think the tourists in DC may be some of the worst people in the world. In this, our nation's capitol, we have a constant running freakshow of everything that makes people hate America.
Utter disregard for other people's time (much less traffic signals)? Check. Disturbingly high obesity rate with a side of white trash? Check. So self absorbed they don't notice they are the only jackasses standing still on the escalator? Fucking check... And honestly, what city do you people come from where it is even remotely okay for a family to wear a matching set of American flag t-shirts?
2) The Weather
If there was ever a sign that God hates Washington, it's the weather. The winter is so bitterly cold and windy that you can't get from door to door without a numb, windscorched face. I keep expecting Dennis Quaid to show up and tell me that using disposable plates and driving trucks has finally come back to kill us.
And for extra fun, it's not like most cold places where at least a nice, temperate summer is the payoff. Oh no. DC was built in a bowl made from a drained out swamp. What that means in layman's: walking to the metro is the rough equivalent of navigating the streets of hell, if hell was filled with a thick, disgustingly hot mist and everyone had to wear suits. Why? Because fuck you, that's why.
3) The Rent
I would call it highway robbery, but that's giving those vagabond bastards far too much credit. It's more like the scene in Pulp Fiction where they ball-gag Marsellus Wallace and horribly rape him with the help of the Gimp... except instead of being tricked into it, you gladly sign up to have it happen at the first of each month.
I kid you not, a friend of mine from back home has a nice, huge place as well as a second apartment just for college football games for less than I pay for one. But there's not a damned thing you can do about it... just drop trow, spread 'em, and limp back upstairs. Thank you sir, may I have another?
/Nobody fucks with the Jesus!
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