Speaking of toxic waste, Prairie Village suffered a newsworthy noxious spill weekend before last as ne’er-do-wells knocked over seven porta-potties:
On Sunday morning, Prairie Village staff and campers at the historical preservation site — located just west of Madison — found seven portable toilets, also known as porta-johns or porta-potties, tipped onto their sides. Six of the toilets were located near the site where a bull-riding event was held Friday night.
The vandalism caused human waste to spill out of the capture tanks of the toilets which “…was splashed and smeared in and onto every possible surface and crevice,” according to Faron Wahl, Prairie Village manager.
…While the portable toilets appeared to have escaped physical damage, the waste-tank spills created a health hazard because the tanks were not emptied of human waste. The toilets were used by attendees during the Friday night bull-riding competition.
Wahl said there is currently no specific information concerning the identification of the individual(s) responsible for the vandalism. While the damage could typically be attributed to minors, Wahl said certain adults were behaving “less than responsible” during the weekend [Chuck Clement, “Vandals Create Health Hazard at Prairie Village,” Madison Daily Leader, 2019.06.10].
Stuff does happen… but come on, knuckleheads: you’ve got better things to do with your Saturday night than pick on Prairie Village.
Like suicide, impulsivity may be the main component, even in petty vandalism.
Friday night in bed i heard a thump after midnight in the groggy rainy drunken world of social activity in white Rapid City.
Deep in the heart of a municipal infrastructure water/sewer line replacement project for city blocks in every direction, comes early Saturday morning, puzzled sleepy construction laborers (surely non-union, underpaid and overworked),examining muddy footprints, broken test stand-pipes, voodoo spray-painted graffiti on eath moving machinery and the parking lot asphalt, and the source of the thump above muddy handprints on the side of the house-my weber barbeque lying on its side in the middle of a rain soaked puddle (pool really) and that single set of foot prints, everywhere, and leading, the cops would find, to its hapeless owner no doubt. “Just another slob like one of us.”
Likely a drunken reveler trying to walk home thru the blackness, slipping and sliding in the mud—mud inescapable—falling, maybe throwing up, covered in mud, wearing friday night’s finest. Impulsve anger. Unrelated to the unfortunate outcome of simple vandalism.
Whether depression and suicide, or merely typical drunken racist friday-night shenanigans, unthinking idiots get arrested, and at election time, vote for Republican pistol packing idiots like trump.
the mentality of trump shows up in many places & these idiots probably did’nt get paid.
I have never understood the urge to damage or destroy. I’m thinking of the people whose first thought at sight of an abandoned building, is to throw rocks through the windows, that kind of thing. I just don’t get it.