Transfer Here

Originally Published 09/07/2011

Photo Source: Shorpy

Anotha day bustin’ my balls on the line, an’ anotha night gettin’ my balls busted by Irene. Jesus. Swear ta christ I can’t win. Fix the sink, clean up the apartment, take out the trash, pick up more pork chops, stop drinkin’ so much beer, feed the kid, bitch, bitch, bitch. Bitch. I bet that dame in the beret waiting for her bus on the other side of the station ain’t a ball-buster like Irene. Probably treats her man like a goddamn king. I wouldn’t mind findin’ out. I seen her a coupla times waitin’ for her bus while I’m waitin’ for mine. Wonder where she lives? Maybe I should find out. It’d be good to shake up my routine a little bit, get lost on the way home, heh heh heh… Sorry, Dear! Don’t know how I got on the wrong bus. Be better than goin’ home an’ getting’ my ass reamed out yet-again. Screw that noise. It’s Friday night! I’m gonna go over ‘ta Flannigan’s. He’s got a TV in the bar. Yeah, go over, have a few beers, watch the fights from the Garden…an’ dream about that doll with the crazy beret a little bit. Hell, maybe she’ll be there! Or maybe some other action will be there. Never can tell…


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