With this in mind, since it’s been a disappointing election, I just GOTTA get into this party. The Letitia James one. I rushed back to it. No missed hot dogs for me in 2013.
Pulsations from inside pulsate me, but in place, not toward the entry. I’m goin’ up and down, not to or fro.
Fro is a possibility, though, bro. Thing is, I’m scared, not scared for my life, scared of being embarrassed. Every time I get a certain distance from the door, I can go no further. There are big, black guys in big, black suits outside, meant to be intimidating, I guess, and they intimidated me. They look like the guys who won’t let you (me) into a club because you’re (I’m) not cool enough.
They had guys like that a couple of months ago outside Long Island College Hospital, a hospital the state was trying to…
View original post 142 more words