In a message dated 6/21/2004 8:13:51 AM Eastern Standard Time, [EMAIL PROTECTED] writes:
And last night, sunday, around 10:30 p.m. Sky runs upstairs to say that two
men had been stacking cinderblocks under our window, i guess to try and
climb in, but she and a bunch of her friends who had observed them from
downstairs had run outside and shouted at them, at which point the two guys
ran off.

I've been here at the same address for ten years, I used to think it was
dangerous, and then I thought it got a lot safer, and now ... Perhaps just
anticdotally, with these armed robberies at 40th and locust in broad
daylight, it seems to be getting a lot more dangerous .....
dude, what can I tell you? Of course you've got my total sympathies. It's getting to be like the Wild West around here -- West Africa that is. Hell, when my wife and I moved here 19 years ago this month we were young and craved excitement. That's why when we heard that the cops were bombing houses from a helicopter, we just jumped at the opportunity to move to West Philly. I mean it was that or East Beirut, and my Lebanese was rusty. And for a while it was fun -- we'd sit up on the rooftops at night smoking hashish and watching the incoming mortar rounds and the tracers lighting up the sky -- really jumped up the old adrenaline and dopamine levels.
 
But then, you know, things quieted down. Got domesticated. We decided to have a kid. Raised him up in this totally whack neighborhood. When he was three, his hobby was picking up crack vials from the sidewalk, you know, the old ones with multi-colored caps, and arranging them in an album. Worst thing happened was that some savage dog bit him in the ass while he was learning to ride a bike. Of course I had to waste the owner. I mean, what kind of father could let that kind of shit go down without some proper vengeance.
 
But that was before the Ivoireans and Nigerians moved in big time. Hell, now you walk down Baltimore Avenue, you think you're in fucking Senegal or someplace. African boutiques, primitive African sculptures for sale on the sidewalk, cassava root for sale under the counter, Nigerian videos, you name it. Two gazillion African restaurants and sidewalk cafes, with these big dudes hanging out till all hours, pounding out their primitive rhythms on the bongos, speaking incomprehensible dialects and giving white ladies the eye. I don't know what foul voodoo brew they cook up in these so-called restaurants, but Hey! how long am I going to have to breathe those greasy and noxious fumes, man??!!
 
So look dude, give me your phone number and I'll arrange to come over with my Fuckin Petition, man, and we'll see if we can't do something to stem the tide of outrageous negritude. I mean, us white folks gotta stick together, man. Look at what happened to Rhodesia!! Give em an inch and they take a mile.
 
Oh, while you're at it, dawg, check out the improvements on my Fabulous Kyle Cassidy Tribute page. Finally got those animated gifs working, holmes:
 
 
 
 
 

Ross Bender
http://rossbender.org

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