At the behest of my then-girlfriend, I spent a long weekend in Bruges. Which I loathed instantly, instinctively and intensely (subsequently discovering that it was largely fake explained this reaction somewhat). There were only two aspects of it which cheered me up - one, that there was a chocolate shop near a bridge over a canal, and at that precise place there was a strong, pervasive and persistent smell of poo; and two, I discovered Bruges' Only Graffiti in a backstreet. It was in English, and said: "Postie, postie, don't be slow. Take a gram and go, go, go."
I like graffiti, when it's witty, pretty, awesome, well-placed and in keeping with the surroundings. As I like the squalid excess of big towns, this is often the case...