Annex Road is where it all goes down, just off Lincoln. Tonnes of warehouses around. Parked trucks big and silent as icebergs. Everything spacious and empty ’cept for the one little yard with the high fence. History happens here.
Getting’ to see a real life patchover is better than any concert, any world cup, any parade. Letia and Joy want me to stay in and watch movies with them while I waggle Samson’s little fists and teach bubs how to box but sorry, ladies: duty calls. A man can hang out with a baby any time but a patchover, bro, that’s historical; it’s like the Twin Towers comin’ down or the last chopper out of Saigon. I missed out on seeing the Southern Vikings patching over to Bandidos, I missed the Harris Gang getting Rebel’d up—I ain’t missin’ another. s**t like this comes around
