I love my porch. While I'm enthroned there, I am the king of Washington Park. The sweating hoi polloi scurry by, hither and thither, while I calmly and with raised eyebrow survey my holdings. I think I'll buy some traffic cones and, from time to time, as the mood takes me, block off traffic, just to assert my eminent domain. Or maybe limit traffic to one lane, or perhaps force cars to cross the median and head back the other way. Traffic cones are wonderful things. I wonder where you can buy them? I wish I had some minions, who could take care of such minor details for me.

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