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| ecards, actors, ra, jerry ferrara, niggaz, jane anderson, punk, creative non fiction, yayhooray, bostonmassachusetts, by katie ford, girl power, | That's at least one fish in the net; no, two, counting that music promotion fuckin' little bastard who called him a chimp. "You're both under arrest!" "How many, Chief?" "You're under arrest!" music promotion "How many cars and vans, Chief?" "How many?" Rogers shifted his steely gaze back and forth between us. Were these guys druggies? Were they "high"? On that "acid" crap? What the fuck were they music promotion saying? Cars? Vans? They were ignoring an arrest. Two arrests! "At least a dozen, Chief. At least a dozen. Probably more. You're in deep, deep shit!" Something had strangely shifted. He was in deep shit? They were the ones in the deep shit. |
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| No turning back. The face of the Chief was scarlet red. His head was spinning. His heart was heaving. jane anderson He was actually breathless with unmitigated anger. He could not contain or conceal jane anderson his fierce frustration. The fuckin' Commies had flown the coop. He couldn't call a car for interception. All of his cars and his buddies' cars were all already at Sherwood. He couldn't call the State Police or the Sheriff. He'd look like a moron and they were a whole separate bunch of pricks. They'd laugh their asses off. But, he still had these jane anderson fuckin' radio boys. That fuckin' shithead with the glasses admitted he was the goddamn promoter. |
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