Playin' in da Hood

It's so nice that we take our children to such reputable, pleasant playgrounds to spend time. The embroidered pants and Children's Place fleece go perfectly with the grafitti. I guess my old 'hood is going downhill. At least neither the children, nor we, have any idea what it says.
Sensing the danger that only 16 month olds can, Tradd tried to make a break for it. The whole scene made Benny's hair stand on end. The older children, the ones who are supposed to protect our growing brood, they were content to make dinosaur nests and toss the youngsters to the maddening crowd. You just can't get good help anymore. I suppose we have to continue keeping our eyes out for them still.
Seriously, though, I just don't understand this kind of grafitti. What's the point. Oooo. Yay, you! You staked your claim on a preschool playground. Good job. No one knows what the heck it says except for your junkie friends, but I'm sure they're all thouroughly impressed because that soggy bit of ground over where you left your mark? Yeah, that's prime real estate. Thanks for spending my tax dollars to pay some government employee to cover up your bout of spray paint diarreah. Times aren't tight enough.