I love the humor in graffiti--it's raw immediate provocation, laced with wit, satire, and of course crudity. It's why I love hip hop, and hanging out with my little sister (hi sis!). It--graffiti--is also of the moment, thoughtful, sometimes comforting, often lovely. Which reminds me of my other sister (heya).
What I really want to discuss though is hot dogs. These dawgs appeared at Tubs. "Wud up dawg" is my favorite. I had to duck behind a city-use sign and break a couple of branches to get the shot. This cranky looking wiener combines two--no three--of my favorite things: graffiti natch, hot dogs, and phonetic spelling. I come from a long line of librarians, writers and English teachers; if there's one thing embedded in my DNA, it's spelling. So I take special, rebellious delight in the artfully spelled word.
And the fact that, despite this post, I'm again sitting here trying to remember how to spell "misspell" ought to be indicator enough that I fell out of the family English tree and probably broke a branch or two--on my way to take a picture of a dawg.