Now that Borf is no longer roaming the streets of my neighborhood creating his homegrown brand of anarchy with spray paint and cardboard stencils, I’m not sure how I feel. I mean, like many in Washington, I marveled at his work (super-double props for borfing the freeway sign over the TR bridge), and in the spectator kind of way, it was cool to watch the fledgling anti-Borf movement.
For all of his faults (which seem to be many if you read The Washington Post’s interview with him), Borf gave us a sort of sideshow distraction — as official Washington rips itself into small pieces over Supreme Court appointments, Karl Rove and whether or not gay marriage will usher in Armageddon, the rest of us had Borf.

Granted, had Borf borfed my house or my car, I’d be pissed. But now that it’s over, I think I’ll miss those loveable Borf spray-painted eyes peering out from walls, bridges, garbage cans, mailboxes and street signs.

I guess you never realize what you’ve got until it’s gone. So long, Borf.