Some days here at Philebrity, the skies just open up and throw us a gimme. Last Wednesday was one of those days, and God damn it if today isn’t another. Why? SEPTA trading cards, people. SEPTA fucking trading cards. Sez the Inky:

Want to rekindle those warm feelings of the seven-day SEPTA strike? How about a nice picture of bus driver Joann Nuttle for your wallet? Or a snapshot of conductor R.D. Murray in your cubicle?

Actually, fucking YES! We do! And sure, these things cost $600,000 to produce (confidential to SEPTA marketing dept.: um, next time, hire us) and that’s a big waste of a lot of money that could have been spent on anger management classes for your rank-and-file, but whatever. This almost puts a smiley face on your whole fucked-up, world’s-biggest-mess-of-a-transit-system deal. Aw, c’mere SEPTA! Who couldn’t love a fuck-up like this?
Inky: Card Sharks
Starting A Landslide In My Ego: Cardy Har Har
Related: “This A Goldbrickin’ Town, And I’m A Goldbrickin’ Man”

This entry was posted on Monday, November 14th, 2005 at 1:00 pm.