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Monday, November 06, 2006

Westside Bumrushes My Dirty Dick Out Into The Street

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They kicked Dirty Dick, my friend the sasquatch-sized ex Hell's Angels biker, out of my homeless vets shelter Friday for turning in a dirty drug test. Diabetic Dirty Dick swore to me it was a false positive while I helped him take his blankets and crap out of his homeless veterans shelter dorm room to his car. I'm gonna miss that guy.

Man, I sure don't like having a landlord who runs monthly random drug tests and can kick a guy out of his rented room on thirty minutes notice without due process for raising his voice to the staff or stepping outside his room after 10 p.m. to have a cigarette.

And why do they have to get rid of the good guys here and keep the wastes of flesh like the guy who is sitting next to me right now in the computer room? Mooch, they call him, and for damned good reason. God, if there is justice in the world, get rid of Mooch and get me my Dirty Dick back.


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