Two for fives. Two for fives. Them dudes got garbage down the way.
It’s completely untenable. Completely. In a region where there’s been so many centuries of violence and bloodshed, the vast majority of it—though certainly not all—between the Judeo-Christian and Muslim worlds…
Two for tens right now.
Nah. We don’t have any raw. Supposed to be some coming around, but I don’t know. Right now is only rocks.
Motherfucker, what I’ve got is what I’ve got.
Then why don’t you get the fuck gone before somebody kicks the shit out of you?
…how are you supposed to come to any kind of accord? Drawing any kind of lines in the sand—near-literally—you’re excising what people feel is a part of themselves, their lineage. A vital and rightful piece of their…
What? No.
Nobody told you any shit like that.
I don’t give a fuck when you were here, nobody told you they’d give you two for eight.
Because I’m the only motherfucker around here, and I’m not Wal-Mart. I’m not rollback pricing any fucking crackrocks. So take your skinny ass on down the street and find two more dollars.
And you need to wash while you’re at it. Stank-ass smokehound.
…sense of self as a people. And it doesn’t really matter what the truth of the situation is—the truth is muddled enough to be near-universal in its veracity where Jerusalem is concerned. With regard to the Israel-Palestine debate, maybe more so than any other place, the truths overlap each other so that even were there no animosity—or let’s say a modicum less animosity…
Nice car. What do you need?
Coke? Like powder? I don’t have any powder. I only have rock and some girl.
Girl. Girl? It’s hay-rawn. You know, like in that movie with Jamie Foxx? Ray? Surely you saw that. It’s a very compelling performance. I think he got an Oscar for that shit.
Are you sure you’re in the right place? Maybe what you’re really looking for is directions back over to where you belong. What you want to do is turn right around and drive three miles straight until you cross over I-35 and you start seeing nicer cars and whiter faces.
No, I don’t have any X. And nobody calls it X anyway. It’s called E. So, is this some after-school special shit? You rehearsing for a part in your high school play?
…it would still be impossible to parse out what belonged to whom, and by what standard. You’re right, and you’re right, and you’re right. You’re all right, and none of you are right. It leads one to wonder—not that it’s right, necessarily, or at least not correct—what the present map of the United States would look like…
How much? Don’t they teach you math over at Westlake? Fifty dollars worth of heroin costs fifty dollars.
What? No. I don’t take plastic. I mean, I’ll take that shit, but I won’t give it back.
…if any of the groups having historical land disputes with the ruling government—the broken treaties, the much-debated forty acres, with or sans mule—if they had been able to achieve anything like parity in terms of firepower or numbers…
You want to what? You know that’s only some shit people say in the movies, right?
…or had been able to hold out until such time as a kinder, gentler view of The Other prevailed. What would it have looked like then? The irony of course being that the selfsame countries who took the lead in human rights violations are now the peace brokers. I’m not sure if that’s…
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not averse to the proposition. Just, usually it’s dudes I went to junior high with that come up talking shit like that. Which I’m not all that into. But yeah. Why not?
…letting the wolf tend the sheep? It’s not. It’s… It’s…
Okay. Here. If you need any more, you know where to find me. Take care now.
…Letting the wolf broker the sheep accords. But that doesn’t really work either. I…
I told you, motherfucker. Two for ten. I don’t want to see you around here until you have ten dollars in your crusty-ass hand.
And I’m not talking change, either. No nickels, no dimes, no quarters. In fact, no singles. You done pissed me off. You want smoke, I’m talking a crisp Hamilton.
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I pulled a “proposition” with two large Samoans for some crystal once. They treated me like I was a pig on a spit. Damn crystal makes me do some crazy shit, ya know.