I made the mistake of reading Wade Tatangelo’s “Surviving Gasparilla” piece. I should have quit while I was ahead after the good read that Wayne Garcia invariably provides.
Tatangelo’s sophomoric screed seemed little more than another excuse to work “fuck,” “pissing” and “assholes” into a column. Well done.
Suggestion: Next time, try waiting until you’re sober before turning in your Gasparilla copy. Unless, of course, you really do think the deification of litter and free-lance pissing is some sort of proletarian picnic – or little more than an annual rite of pissage at the expense of unacceptably affluent South Tampa neighborhoods.
“Fuck the floats”? How about fuck the juvenile-entitlement attitude? How about grow the fuck up?
I live all too close to ground zero and make the best of it. I throw my own party on my own private property. And should you or your pal Sal and or any of the other Bud Light anarchists you hang out with decide to trespiss at Orleans and Bayshore, it would be my personal privilege to kick your collective asses down to your “spot” at Willow.