When I was a young teen my best friend had a scooter. We rode it all over town before we were old enough to get a real driver’s license, and Miss Fartblossom always me wear the stupid-looking helmet so it wouldn’t mess up her hair. We called it the Razz, a likely name considering it was the model of the scooter and painted directly on the front.
One day we were riding around town in the moped and got the bright idea that we needed to graffiti something in a campus parking garage. We drove back to Kmart and picked up two cans of spraypaint. On the way back we tried to decide what we would write. She decided to write “The Razz is the shit.” I can’t remember what I had planned on.
Miss Fartblossom was paranoid that we would get caught, so the plan was to do it as quickly as possible, ride away before we got caught, and come back later to survey our work.
The plan unfolded as follows: We got to the top of the garage, whipped out the spraypaint, she squealed wtih glee as she wrote, I kicked my can because it wouldn’t work, and we scurried back onto the scooter and rode away, little rebels that we were. It took all of thirty seconds.
Later we returned to admire her artwork. We took one look and I threw back my head in laughter. It read, “The is th sht.”
The important lesson learned: If you’re going to graffiti something in a public place, make sure you spell it correctly.