I don’t know if you can tell by the photo, but the road leading up to that wall is only one block long. Added to which, where he hit, he had to drive over the neighbor’s lawn. To quote Rick James, “cocaine is a helluva drug.”
I don’t know if you can tell by the photo, but the road leading up to that wall is only one block long. Added to which, where he hit, he had to drive over the neighbor’s lawn. To quote Rick James, “cocaine is a helluva drug.”
I wish I had more hands… so I could give his driving four thumbs down!
Yeah, he’s a habitual wall crasher.
Crash into a wall? Don’t you think I’d have a bit more sense than that, I mean, to crash into a wall just to do it?
Yeah, I crashed into that wall.
instant replay
Crash into a wall? Don’t you think I’d have a bit more sense than that, I mean, to crash into a wall just to do it?
Yeah, I crashed into that wall.
Crack Heads
I grew up in Berkeley, you know, North County. Once, when I was 13, a crack head got shot in our back yard. Her name was Zukahnna, and she was a Deciple, they were the gang that had the six point star tatoos, and they wore blue. Anyway, my mom ran out back after she heard the gun shots, and there was Zukhanna laying in the grass. She was okay, the bullett only grazed some unimportant part of her body, and the shooter ran back to Zukahnnas house. It was her dealer, or something, I don’t know. I do know that she asked us not to call the cops, and she got up, and went back home. We knew her, because we knew her daughter Angie. Angie used to pick on me at school. When Angie turned 14, she had a baby. But That’s my crack head story.
Re: Crack Heads
Yeah, living in the city, I have a million crack head stories, None quite as good as yours, though.