Chapter Three
LIZZIE’S is a notorious hard core Bull Dyke bar, puked over there off of dangerous Northern Blvd, just off of MLK Blvd.
Feeling phat, the warm wind whistling past my blond buzz cut, and my tiny ass planted on the turquoise and white tuck and roll front seat, the one I had upholstered in Tijuana; I was ready for some pure and unequivocal havoc.
Like I said, I love to test myself, fist against fists, brains against brains, violence against violence. Why the f**k not. It’s better than chasing a white ball around some preconceived pathetic death tomb, a par and a three iron the only passion ya got left in your life.
Smoking, I swear I’m going to quit, REALLY, I’ve got the s*x Pistols on my car music machine and feeling tight, I’m singin’ along with the boys and tapping my wor
