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The Indefinite Article.

Tuesday, December 09, 2003

616 St John.

Twice Since I have lived at 616 I have had to call the cops.
The first time was in August.
At 3 am I heard footsteps on my front porch.
I get up go outside.
There are three drunk white college kids sitting on my front porch.
I tell them that I am going to count to three and that they had better get the
fuck off my porch.
I made it to two and then they saw my brother and tore ass out of there.
Liz and I are watching Two Towers and then we hear screaming.
not screaming in a Nosgul kind of in the distance but
on my front porch front door opening screaming running through my house.
Then at the door of my bedroom banging screaming doorknob turning
screaming leap out of my bed stopping big fat crack whore from
coming into my fucking room.
Crack whore screaming that a man is chasing her with a gun.
ME screaming get the fuck out of my house.
HEART pounding woman pounding on my door.
She runs into my brothers room (how fun is that).
I dont know what she has drugs gun knife I was just barracading the door.
Once I heard that she went into my brothers room I ran out grabed the phone
passed it to liz and 911 started to happen.
She convinces my brother to call 911
Lock Liz and I in the bathroom.
Bang on the front door of the Police.
Strung out Crack whore is hallucinating.
Police intervention.
I am getting out of this place


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