And suddenly Mississippi Derek turned to me from his crosslegged, patient shotgunning, and opened his mouth, and leaned close (no homo), and said, “This shit reminds of UT-Austin.”
“Are you a Longhorn?”
“Fuck no, I’m an Ole-fucking-Miss Rebel. ” And that was for real how he said it.
“Where’s your lil’ bro from?”
“He got into some kind of shit during a college visit at Ole Miss, so I offered to do him a solid. Lil’ bro’s never been out on his own. I do him solids as best as I can, he’s only a kid.” Although this might sound totally racist, even though Mississippi Derek was white there was something straight up gangster in him, and something totally like Elmer Hassel, the New York Four Loko addict, in him, but a rawdog Hassel, a traveling epic Hassel, beasting it across the country every year, Vail in the winter and Key West in the summer, and only because he had no place he could crash at without banging somebody’s sister and because he had a fucking ridiculous credit limit on his Visa.
turn my life/career into...Wonder Tonic. An excerpt from on
hogy ez mennyivel jobb az eredeti úton-nál