Ahh, March is here. Spring is nigh upon us, the time when mother nature brandishes her feather duster and tickles the noses of would-be snot-rocketeers. Exhibit A: I am coasting peacefully behind a line of cyclists, the guy in front of me cocks his head to the side places his finger on one nostril and wham booger snot on my knee. Exhibit B: Guy on a fixie speeds past, wait he's slowing down. The smell of burnt shoe is as clear as the twilight sky. Looks like he's answering a text. I am starting to pass him, but wait.. oh no.. not again. He's holding the phone to his nostril... wham. What the hell people! I am instituting a new rule Portland!! Use a god-damn hanky!!!
Snot Rocketeers Strike Again
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