"Hey there! I'm a dying pigeon and this pathetic Union Square junky thinks my last breathing moments should be spent being a hand puppet begging for spare change!"

"Can you give me a dollar so my friend here can get a bump? Peep peep! Pleeeeze? I'll dance for it! Peep peep peep!"

Um, this isn't your fucking livingroom. It's a coffee shop where the PUBLIC comes to relax and enjoy a cozy beverage. I'm trying to draw for Christ's sake, and you come here in a sweaty tanktop, jogging shorts and stocking feet?

The next time some asshole says he dresses for comfort, this guy is reason enough to scream "I've seen fucking comfort-dress!" then punch that asshole square in the nose.

I've sat here for 30 minutes trying to decide what the fuck I think of this. One minute I say to myself "What? Are you kidding me? It's Dexy's Midnight Runners tucked into the boots!" Then the next minute I think, "Fuck Foot Locker! This'll show those corporate buttfucks what I think of their Air Zoom Generation!"

But in the end I am left to decide for myself, and the fact is, if he came over to me wanting to be my friend I would look him square in the eye, say "No thank you," stand up and step in front of a speeding cab.

What is it in our nature that makes us think more is always better? I mean, as if spending $400 on a leather vest with that embroidered logo isn't enough he's gotta airbrush another mistake punctuated with an anime hoe with her legs spread, while he reads a fuckin' monster truck mag.

Dos de Oro Boots - $400
Junior - Nothing