Nothing says, "you're on the wrong side of the tracks" quite like waking up to a bout of good ole' fashioned domestic violence in front of your house. Some couple was in a shouting match; then came the silence. I heard the unmistakable sound of flesh-on-flesh, *POW!* I leapt out of bed to rush to the window and saw I had a perfect frame for what was to unfurl. A woman lay quivering, clutching her jaw; pouting as if she were young again and her favorite toy was smote by rage. I look down the street to witness the perpertrator get broadsided by three well-rounded bruthas pummeling the shit out of him. And as if I were directing the scene, on cue, a squad car chirped his tires to inform them that he was now in charge. Poor girl. I should be grateful that law enforcement responds so well over here. Maybe it was a fluke. They're remodleing Dunkin' Donuts down the street, so there is no reason for them to be down this way. Had to be.
london:
Sounds like something out of the movies!