Wednesday, August 18, 2010
8/8
At a restaurant this morning a woman inquired where the bathroom was. The closest one was across the street, the cashier replied. Oh, for goodness sake! the disgruntled woman moaned. Then I fantasized of smacking her across the face and letting her know that I walked from Mexico to eat at that restaurant. By the way, welcome to Washington, the final, mystic state.
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You should have slapped her, she would have been toast over here in the decatur hood. You are a B-A for reals mizzle. You've got-sta contact me when you're civilized.
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