V is for Vagrant

So like I'm standing outside ANZ on Courtney Place this morning and there is Blanket Man listening to some homey shit (possibly Kanye West but who knows, it all sounds the same). Its kinda sunny, I have a good vibe. I'm going into the bank. I smell ganga. I look at Blanket Man. He is drinking a can of V.

I look closer at BM. His can of V appears to be on fire. Shit, is his blacket on fire? No such luck. He has converted a can of V into a bong of sorts and is getting his morning hit. V makers probably never intended that use for their product but whatever, I applaud the novel use.

Never mind Blanket Man is a fucking waste of space. Never mind he is smoking weed on the main street of Wellington at 10am on Saturday morning where there are kids about. Nevermind how someone without a job can afford weed.

Just applaud the fact that, even when they are full of spirits (meths or Rasta's special blend), the bums of Wellington have that good old kiwi 'number 8 wire' problem solving spirit going on...