…in which my big mouth gets me into trouble

the bastard was in the paper recently.

no it wasn't for that string of liquor stores I robbed (whoops)

some guy from the daily news rolled up on me and wanted to ask me about my new hood.

so I took my hand off the knife and decided to answer his questions.

in said interview I complained about something that needed to be done with my shower that the owners wouldn't fix because it's too much work. but after my shower started leaking into the apartment below me. then they fixed it.

this is what dan in the daily news.

that was a month ago.

two weeks ago (3 this Friday) the story ran and they had ripped out my shower again because they missed the leak.

and the repair job is going much slower this time.

it's starting to piss me off. not that my big mouth hit the newsstand on the eve of this work in my place. no. it's because I haven't had the use of one of my bathrooms in fucking 3 weeks. damn thin skinned fuckers.

serves me right to be talking to reporters. well maybe I'm a little remorseful but, not as much as I could be.

there's always losing my shot and running around the owners office with a machete. that is IF the bastard had a machete.

—the bastard

crack in the armor

so we're finally taking the plunge.

looking for a new place in earnest.

and today couldn't have been a worse house hunting day.

the lic wasn't wearing it's best face.

and the open houses were wack.

I hope shit works out. or perhaps it's gonna be Brooklyn where the bastard lays his head for the next 10 years.

work with me queens.

—the bastard

ice station zebra

from the railroad this is the view of the frozen tundra that us Hollis queens.

moms cookin chicken and collared greens



getting off by the rents in qv last night was like getting off at a suburban queens hood only if it was on the moon

the snow was still there.

hard packed from this guy my parents have been telling me about who has been piling it up on the corners.




which creates it's own host of trouble.

the frozen rain had done it's work

creating a glass landscape that was like a currier and ives card gone horribly wrong.

the bastard had to walk past the rents until he could find a driveway to cross the street.

I hope my leg won't break

walking on the moon.

—the bastard

deplorable...

you know,

the bastard remembers back in small times,

he used to go up to the wendys on braddock avenue with sherman.

and it was good.

flash forward: 

last night i was watching the news, and there was a huge brawl at the wendy's of my youth.

and it made the bastard wonder, "what the fuck is wrong with my old hood?"

it's terrible when one sees this as the likely outcome for the old hood. 

every once in a while, one has to get off the highway on the way to the rents because of traffic. 

and if this was after school let out, it was a real shit show. 

thugs all the way round.

it's sad to see you're old neighborhood slowly go to hell.

—the bastard