note to greenpeace
best not to employ clipboard boys around d.c. who:
-are indistinguishable from the potentially harmfuly and loony homeless man around the corner. a shower and a haircut will go a long way in this town.
-see me coming from a block away, pick me as obvious target, converge with your fellow unwashed greenpeace mate, who has not engaged anybody in conversation either, most likely because the stink is warding off everybody in the goddamn golden triangle, and start doing a strange clipboard/monkey dance in which you swivel your hips and suggestively thrust said clipboard towards me.
-shout something imperceptible at me as i turned my ipod up and speed the hell away from you as fast as i can in my heels.
note to self: never, EVER, give money to greenpeace.
goddammit, i hate the clipboard jerks around town in summer.