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Saturday, October 14, 2006

Riding With The Wild Wild West

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Took one of my homeless veterans shelter friends, a skinhead burglar -turned- electrician, to the Inglewood DMV today to get a replacement ID for the one he lost on a caper somewhere.

His name is Don West and I call him "The Wild, Wild West." He's been arrested 47 times, was in the Marine Corps, and "burned a 20-year path of death and destruction" on coke, yet he's a likable guy, a big Gomer Pyle, 'gawlee shucks' kid when his daughter comes to visit him here at the dorm of the doomed.

He's a pretty likable guy for someone who looks like a knife-wielding killer Nazi extra out of a Freddy Krueger movie.

When Don first came here, he tried a lot of prison gangsta moves on me in the mess hall and in the weight room and out on the quad, but every time he tried an intimidation, I cocked my fist back and said, "Let's get something straight, bitch."

He liked that. Nobody wants to hang with some chapdick picklemunch who caves in to intimidation too easily. You gotta know if the guy you're ridin' with is gonna back your play if you get into a rumble.

Time's up, the RA just called. Gotta get off the shelter computer NOW.

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