Let me start off by saying this: I understand that if you’re pooping on the sidewalk outside my apartment every morning, you’ve probably got bigger problems than I.  Shoot, here I am complaining about my favorite flats nearly landing right in your creation.  But come on, dude.  Right in the middle of the sidewalk?  There are some really nice bushes in front of the building next door.  Or maybe you’d rather lean against the fence?  You know, maybe somewhere that isn’t right in the middle of the sidewalk.

But, dear person, I have to give credit where credit is due.  I saw the Jack in the Box cup this evening.  You know which one I’m talking about, the one you tried to use as your toilet.  It was a horrific mess indeed, but thank you for getting most of your mess inside something.  The middle of the sidewalk is the second worse place for poop.  The first place would be all over my beautiful tan flats with the black patent leather toe.