ELVIS WAS FAT

you’re in a town you’ve known all your life. you’ve been away a long time.

it’s fair to say they don’t tolerate civil disobedience in any form. unruly behavior is frowned upon here. even to cross the road outside the designated area is considered a blatant act of defiance.

you spend the morning looking around, seeming to raise eyebrows despite your best efforts to behave. it's market day and theres lots of people on the streets, but apart from some exotic tropical fruits theres not much but shitey new age mystical crap and some evil crafts for jesus stalls.

but, after finding some gems in an op shop you are pleased to be the only one to see the value in obscure unfashionable clothes. still, this kind of place has a way of getting you down. despite the good weather and pretty tree-lined streets.

so you surprise yourself with the joy you feel at finding graffiti on the street. it’s drawn into the footpath cement. and it simply states, “ELVIS WAS FAT”. why should this make you happy?

it really has come to that.