"If I wrote my life story on a piece of toilet paper, it wouldn't amount to shit," Antonio said, staring off into space.
"No shit, Burqaman." That was Felipe, always hanging around to throw the cauldron on. Like a witch with a hot temper but less restraint. More hate.
Felipe with his felts hats on, always asking, blunt ashing on. Burnt ham to my Burnham charm.
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