Are you sure we shouldn’t do something? I asked my ol’ buddy Lamar. We were sitting in rocking chairs on Juanita’s front porch, sipping the frosty nectar of hops. Shouts and curses emanated from the kitchen in the back and echoed throughout the house, rattling the windows and throwing off my rocking chair rhythm.

“You don’t want to go in there,” Lamar said. Copy article link

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