New World Short Order (detained in the posh burbs)

this way back to the ghetto


Thursday January 22, 2004


Howdy. I neglected to tell youse about a rather amusing event that transpired the other day. Some bozoes of my acquaintance, called “Aera Patera”, musicians for whom I did a session came out here to bourgeois land Sunday to take me to a video shoot for their cd. They came in a beat up red car (important later). Also important to remember is that I decided to dress in my Matrix-influenced baddest drag for the occasion. I sported my long black leather overcoat, a pair of blue mirror shades, black turtleneck. Couldn’t have done better had I consulted “Osama’s Secret” terrorist wardrobe catalogue. We hadn’t travelled more than 500 meters down the road when a pair of newly-minted fascist cops from the olympic brigade decided this was our lucky day. Beat up red car in a posh neighborhood? Scowling mafioso in the back seat? It’s them, stavros! Oh, the arrogance. The leather lad in charge pulled us over by standing in the middle of the road and pointing his finger. You.

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