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Saturday, October 15, 2016

Running From the Police, Hoping the Mop Doesn’t Fall Out of My Pocket

Going back to the Coachella scene, all the art instillations, graffiti writers, and street artist there all are inspired by, and many give praise and draw influence from the graffiti and street art movement. Now this blog isn't here to argue if graffiti is bad or not, cause if you do think its a problem, I beg you to leave because you're opinion does not count.  
jrib jrob
This is simply in place to inspire.

Now another opinion of mine, is that you cannot have a valid opinion on art if you have never been investigated by the cops or had a nice run across the city with the police. This includes anything from forbes money laundering, or in another sense the rat bombing the deli under his shitty apartment; with black paint underneath his finger nails he's left wondering if anybody will actually look at this by the time it gets covered up by the police in neon vest with gallons upon gallons of grey paint. 

Everyone has their first experience, here’s mine.
And here is how you learn how to run from the police on foot up in a tree, or underneath someones car. 

So I am with my friend in the mountains somewhere in Chatsworth. I have my back pack, he has his. The only difference is that mine is filled with spray cans and his is filled with mops, sharpies, and sakuras. 

I was writing DGO at the time and we got up in a few good places and tagged a couple places we knew nobody would see. Ultimately, one thing lead to another and we found our selves sitting there thinking, “how are we going to run from helicopters”. 

We jump over the railroad and the train tracks a couple barbed wire fences with minor cuts on our legs and our selves luckily still where in tact. We come to this great wall, now looking back at thats what we should have been bombing, but we don't have time for that right now so we hop it back into his gated community and ditch our bags in this red pick up. 

Now that they police saw us go into this gated community the helicopter lets the squad cars down low know that we are basically stuck in this community.

 Luckily, we are in the hills of Los Angeles, with not only his house in the community to go to but two friends houses we can show up at about a mile closer. So after ditching the sirens, and crawling throw bushes we make it into this girls house that can be mistaken for a hotel. 

Within her property we disappear and get ready for that party that happened to be there that night. 

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