Spellbound in K-Town

About, oh, two years ago, M announced that she was moving away from the superfantastic city where we both lived to another, smaller, less cool place. I'll admit, I was pretty bummed. Whose fridge was I supposed to raid? From whom would I take DVDs? I'd watched all of mine already!

After M settled in, I hopped on the noblest form of transportation (aka, the bus) to borrow her DVDs, visit, and check out her new home -- known as K-Town. If you think I'm about to start ragging on it, then you'd be right. I immediately made a few choice observations:

1. There are a lot of pregnant teenagers, or teenagers with babies.
2. The bus station is a cool place to hang out, and the security guards make you feel like you're in a nightclub that smells of piss.
3. There are spelling errors everywhere.

And I mean EVERYWHERE. (I actually have a theory that the city is run by guinea pigs, but my proof is scant.) So now whenever I visit, we make a game of seeing who can spot the most spelling mistakes. Winner gets a coffee and a muffin. This is one that earned me a large double double and a blueberry bran.


This sign was posted on most city buses. Seriously.


I was so fucking happy that day.