While cursing work and schlepping down the streets of Philthydelphia, I noticed a mob of anorexic, strange looking boys with square glasses throwing me attitude like Japanese shurikens. Forming a line 3 blocks long, I decided to investigate their situation only to find out they were "camping out for those new 'yay joints, son". I closed my eyes, nodded, and forced myself down the block so as not to decapitate the kid right where he stood. Turns out "those new 'yay joints" was slang for Martin Louis the Douche Jr's not-so-impressive hightops. To make matters worse, the shoes didn't come out until f*cking Saturday.
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