2:02 p.m. - 2002-05-02
league
In grand old Los Angeles tradition, I am forming a gang. A collective of like-minded fellows to be known henceforth as the League of Urban Gentlemens. And wheresoever one espies the acronym LUGS publicly scripted in aerosol paint, one should give pause to consider how one's definition of urban etiquette compares to ours...favorably? Then rejoice. For the wind of justice has kicked up, my friend, and the coarse stench of incivility is soon to be driven before it. However, should one's sense of appropriate decorum be found wanting, I would suggest inquiring into the availability of rental property elsewhere (preferably in Glendale or Long Beach or one of the League's other designated penal colonies). For although it is by our silver-chained monocles and starched gorgets that friends and allies recognize a League member, it is with our sturdy, black-lacquered, walking sticks that we advertise our presence to the ill-bred. These elegant cudgels not only encourage the good posture one associates with a League man but, more importantly, they stand ever poised to mete out justice to the following offenders:
1. litterbugs
2. spitters
3. those who feel that wearing headphones entitles them to "rap" in full-volumed accompaniment to whatever it is they're listening to...something that invariably seems to involve prolific use of the word "bitch"- yelled without regard for the presence of women or children, or consideration of the fact that your standing right in front of my open living room window while I'm trying to watch a fucking ball game...bitch
4. squatter kids who act like they invented punk rock ('cause goddamnit, I invented punk rock)
5. any individual driving, dropping, or conspiring to drop a low-rider dually pickup
6. the person responsible for that Armenian disco CD in the juke box at the Drawing Room
7. shirtless middle-aged men in "daisy dukes" who drink too many vodka tonics and try to touch me inappropriately at the Sunset Junction Street Fair
8. white guys w/Allen Iverson-style cornrows
9. 7-11 employees who consolidate old pots of coffee to give the illusion of a fresh pot
10. New Yorkers who move out here and complain all the time
Spitters, litterbugs, their ilk- consider yourselves warned.
