Parking tickets and ducks that can talk

On both Tuesday and Wednesday I was legally parked on a sidewalk (I can do this; I drive a university service vehicle) and on both days I received a parking ticket. I wasn't in the wrong, so I took pictures of my oh-so-legal parking job and they're being sent to the Public Safety Dickheads who write parking tickets to make people sad all the time.

Getting those two tickets on Wednesday got me thinking I should make a t-shirt. On it, a silhouette of a man is having sex with a duck. A speech bubble is near the man's mouth and it reads: 'I write parking tickets.' And maybe the duck's saying, 'I'm a talking duck.'

Then on the back it says, 'People who write parking tickets have sex with ducks that can talk.'

Who makes t-shirts? Let's print off a few. I'd gladly wear my revenge. It's not libel if it's true. Suck it, talking-duck bangers.

(Angell.)

People who write parking tickets must be sad, miserable people, I imagine that over time they become sexually aroused when they see a car parked over a yellow line, or they pop a microboner every time a car is less than three feet from a driveway and they get to write a ticket. Then after they stick that ticket and put it under some unlucky bastard's windshield, they gleefully make a little mess in their pants, wipe it up, and go back on the prowl for petty crimes.