We’re sitting on her porch, the trusty Styrofoam cooler between us. There’s a broken hole in the lid now. It was an accident. I’m drinking 32-ounce cans of Colt 45 malt liquor. I love the buzz but it always gives me a headache-heavy hangover. I believe it’s worth it. She’s drinking peach wine coolers forContinue reading “Unidentified Flying Object”
Crumbling Asphalt 