So. We went out.
Shopping. At a shopping centre which one will not name.
As one does, one needed to use the facilities.
One entered the stall to find the following written on the back of the door –
This was disturbing to ones mind. As one sat and considered the meaning of life as one is wont to do when one is peeing, one wished that one of the ten commandments was one shalt not graffiti.
Then again, one knows that interpretation is everything when it comes to the Bible. One could likely twist any random bible quote to suit.
Having the internet presently at hand and not currently on the throne, one has found this random bible verse generator with which one is certain you will get a verse that taken at its core and broken down truly means one must spread the word of God all over the back of toilet cubicles with a purple Texta.
One got the one about thou shalt not covet thy neighbours wife, or his ass. One would have to work really hard to twist that one into it is fine to graffiti as long as it is the word of God and not the work of the devil, though one does not doubt there are religious nuts who can manage it.
Previous to completing ones tinkle, one remembered that one had a sharpie in ones handbag. One forgets why twas there. One is sure one had a good and decent reason and not criminal intent.
Obviously this did not end well.
One has never in ones lifetime done a graffiti but Jesus or whatever deity inspired one this time.
So, one wrote “God does not approve of your GRAFITI. You are going to HELL.”
You know what they say. Photos, or it didn’t happen.
Well, either because one was now a criminal and on the run, or just sheer lack of talent, ones photos of the end result are either blurry or with a huge flash in the middle. Here’s the best one could do with what one took while on the lam.
It happened, all right. One certainly cannot explain *how* it happened or how one suddenly chose to become a Not Good Person Who Writes On Things With A Sharpie at the ripe age of nearly 40. Something just grabbed one and made one do it.
One is inclined to blame this one squarely on Jesus. He made me see red, your honour. One does not wish to be tele-marketed to in large purple letters whilst on the throne. This interrupts ones happy and random toilet thoughts.
Jesus also made me mis-spell Graffiti, your honour.
One would normally have spell checked it on ones phone, but in the heat of the moment and all that, Snoskred committed crimes against spelling as well as crimes against toilet cubicle walls.
The moral of the story, I believe, is simple.