I just love that because it reminds me of the corner, it reminds me of where I came from, and how all this shit became possible.
Just watch how this little shit's bravado-filled voice begins to tremble and crack when the bouncer snatches the ID he borrowed from his sister's boyfriend.
Did he really need to say it out loud? How much of this shit needed to be spelled out? "Uh, what are you doing?" the doctor asked.
He offered another option, and a mission statement: "Maybe we roll up our sleeves and start figuring out how to make this shit on Earth work for us".
So he's going, 'I don't know how to start this shit,' and I'm counting him in [to begin his verse].
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You have the best backpack, tent, and camping stove money can buy, but you might not even know how to use this shit.
Responding to my story of how I got this shit haircut, one of the guys tells me I look like Pauline Quirke from Birds of a Feather.
