At Least They’ll Let Us Have Our Misery
“Fuck you, mother fucker! I don’t need this shit!” I was about 3 or 4 when I went with my father to his work. He was a super (like a head janitor and handyman) at a convalescent home at the time. I really didn’t know why I was going with my father to this place, […]
At Least They’ll Let Us Have Our Misery Read More »