Everybody arrested
in Brooklyn
since they built the courthouse
ends up in
'The Tombs."
These days if
you require medical attention
when they cuff
you in Brooklyn,
unless there is some sort of 911 style citywide emergency,
you end up in Woodlawn hospital,
a medical institution no one
would ever choose for themselves
let alone a loved one.
First,
it is filthy,
on at least three levels,
and I don't mean three stories of building,
it is much bigger than that.
I mean three levels of hypothetical cleanliness.
Three levels of dust, muck, grime, and microscopic disease.
Second,
there is the track record.
A few years back a big fat mentally ill woman,
died of Jesus knows,
right in the waiting room.
High security.
You can watch the video of the staff stepping around her corpse
on YouTube.
I spent thursday night at Woodlawn,
handcuffed to a bed rail.
It wasn't my first time ...
A songwriter Brooklynite friend, who I am sure wishes to remain unnamed, noted this morning, with Agape' love:
"Hipsters are people just like any other minority class.
You may not like them.
You may not want to eat in the same restaurant,
Or drink from the same fountain,
but you have to respect them."
There is a reason folks like his songs to the point of stealing from them.
He has a way of distilling the truth of the matter and pressing send while I'm still working on my second of 10 paragraphs.
I couldn't help but respond"
"I don't care if you are the King Of Shiam.
You can't close my computer (especially when I am uploading said songwriter's video),
move it,
and steal my seat when I go for a cigarette
without getting a reaction from me.
I don't care if you are the ******* Sultan of Swing
or President Obama's mama,
you are going to hear about what an ******* move that is."
But I shouldn't have broken that window.
At the very least it would have saved me some stitches.
It is rather unpleasant getting stitches on one writ while the other is cuffed.
"Just a pinch" when they inject the local right into your gaping wound.
"Just a pinch."
Yeah right.
Maybe if the pinching is done by an angry pregnant wolvererine.
And I definitely shouldn't have gone next door,
ordered another mojito,
and thrown that against the door as well.
I like mojito's
wasting them in such a manner
is a filthy sort of sacrilege.
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 4:03 AM UTC
Everybody arrested
in Brooklyn
since they built the courthouse
ends up in
'The Tombs."
These days if
you require medical attention
when they cuff
you in Brooklyn,
unless there is some sort of 911 style citywide emergency,
you end up in Woodlawn hospital,
a medical institution no one
would ever choose for themselves
let alone a loved one.
First,
it is filthy,
on at least three levels,
and I don't mean three stories of building,
it is much bigger than that.
I mean three levels of hypothetical cleanliness.
Three levels of dust, muck, grime, and microscopic disease.
Second,
there is the track record.
A few years back a big fat mentally ill woman,
died of Jesus knows,
right in the waiting room.
High security.
You can watch the video of the staff stepping around her corpse
on YouTube.
I spent thursday night at Woodlawn,
handcuffed to a bed rail.
It wasn't my first time ...
A songwriter Brooklynite friend, who I am sure wishes to remain unnamed, noted this morning, with Agape' love:
"Hipsters are people just like any other minority class.
You may not like them.
You may not want to eat in the same restaurant,
Or drink from the same fountain,
but you have to respect them."
There is a reason folks like his songs to the point of stealing from them.
He has a way of distilling the truth of the matter and pressing send while I'm still working on my second of 10 paragraphs.
I couldn't help but respond"
"I don't care if you are the King Of Shiam.
You can't close my computer (especially when I am uploading said songwriter's video),
move it,
and steal my seat when I go for a cigarette
without getting a reaction from me.
I don't care if you are the ******* Sultan of Swing
or President Obama's mama,
you are going to hear about what an ******* move that is."
But I shouldn't have broken that window.
At the very least it would have saved me some stitches.
It is rather unpleasant getting stitches on one writ while the other is cuffed.
"Just a pinch" when they inject the local right into your gaping wound.
"Just a pinch."
Yeah right.
Maybe if the pinching is done by an angry pregnant wolvererine.
And I definitely shouldn't have gone next door,
ordered another mojito,
and thrown that against the door as well.
I like mojito's
wasting them in such a manner
is a filthy sort of sacrilege.
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