Hey, okay. This is where it starts for me, my foray into the gang of cruel hustlers. I’ve got my shirt off, bitches. And the A/C is on. Where’s the continuity here? Soon you’ll learn, if you haven’t already, that I possess continuity in ever-waning amounts. Detritus of a boozy past (and future) tend to cloud my raving, and the foggy trumpet call of dawn leads to another chance for me to really show the guys who’s boss. I go “Hey look, there’s the boss.” Simple. More later, I have to wipe.