I got caught picking my nose today.
A crusty, scabby, abominable beast of a booger which I fully blame on the Dust Bowl, kicked up by thousands of feet scampering across the street from the Surfline offices at the U.S. Open of Surfing. The protester who called me out -- "Ewww, ohmygod, that's sooo gross!" -- did so between two pierced lips, not to mention purple hair, finger-painted breasts, a shredded t-shirt reading "KISS MY ASS," hand-stamped buttocks and a menagerie of tattoos both fake and real coating nearly every inch of visible flesh.
Which made me ponder: just where does the line between "appropriate" and "inappropriate" lie in Surf City this week?
Truth be told, that line is probably the entrance to the actual contest fray, where anyone distributing stamps and stickers, flyers and feelers, toys and treats, posters and pamphlets and any guerilla propaganda whatsoever is generally frowned upon, if not flat-out prohibited from entering. So all that stuff -- all the non-endemic marketing and pretty much anything peripheral to the Culture of Shred that this event was built on -- is banished outside, across the street and around the corner into the humble realm of an anonymous nose-picker.
My editor calls this whole non-event "a Petri dish of youth ...more
A crusty, scabby, abominable beast of a booger which I fully blame on the Dust Bowl, kicked up by thousands of feet scampering across the street from the Surfline offices at the U.S. Open of Surfing. The protester who called me out -- "Ewww, ohmygod, that's sooo gross!" -- did so between two pierced lips, not to mention purple hair, finger-painted breasts, a shredded t-shirt reading "KISS MY ASS," hand-stamped buttocks and a menagerie of tattoos both fake and real coating nearly every inch of visible flesh.
Which made me ponder: just where does the line between "appropriate" and "inappropriate" lie in Surf City this week?
Truth be told, that line is probably the entrance to the actual contest fray, where anyone distributing stamps and stickers, flyers and feelers, toys and treats, posters and pamphlets and any guerilla propaganda whatsoever is generally frowned upon, if not flat-out prohibited from entering. So all that stuff -- all the non-endemic marketing and pretty much anything peripheral to the Culture of Shred that this event was built on -- is banished outside, across the street and around the corner into the humble realm of an anonymous nose-picker.
My editor calls this whole non-event "a Petri dish of youth ...more
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