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A Man Named Bookie
'Baltimore Has Nothing Left For Me': Another Paleface Joins the Rabbit Race
© 2017 James LaFond
JUN/16/17
A good friend of mine, Bookie, a really smart dude who can't stand my writing, called me over a month ago and wanted to know If I was looking to rent a nice, well-maintained row house in an East Baltimore neighborhood.
I am already well ensconced at the old plantation house, I informed him. I did refer him to two of my fighters, who were both displeased with their rental arrangements in garden apartments.
He and Oliver came to an amicable agreement.
My friend, Bookie, who despite his handle is a civic-minded, well-meaning, government-believing, union-working, democrat-voting working man who believes in paying taxes for the common good, then contacted the Baltimore City Government, was routed to the proper agency that handles rental registration, in a mind-boggling bid to "do the right thing" and claim his rental fee as taxable income!
Bookie was then hit with a barrage of requirements, that, despite the very well maintained and up-to-date condition of his house, would cost him many hours and thousands of dollars to bring up to city code for a rental!
The man has a job and a rental waiting out of state, yet did not want to add to his home town's blight by leaving a vacant house behind on a block sporting four for sale signs. In his bid for out-of-state work he suffered that final disappointment of civic spirit and in disgust put up the fifth for sale sign on the block. He apologized for leaving Oliver in a spot between leases and told me, "I'm done. Baltimore has nothing left for me."
And there he goes, packing up his woman and his belongings into his postmodern Conestoga wagon and headed for the sunset. Counting his lady, he makes the 13th person with whom I am personally acquainted, who has moved away from Baltimore since the Race Purge began just over two years ago.
In no way can I find it in my heart to blame him, who actually sunk his soul into this city, only to have it singed and crushed, a city that serves as my altar of heathen muses chanting the discordant paean to which I conduct my end time finger dance afroth.
The Hunt for Whitey
Recognizing and Surviving the Condition of Anarcho-Tyranny
'Some Big Black Guy is Knocking on My Door!'
harm city
Tutoring a Ho
eBook
taboo you
eBook
sorcerer!
eBook
son of a lesser god
eBook
let the world fend for itself
eBook
blue eyed daughter of zeus
eBook
into leviathan’s maw
eBook
all-power-fighting
eBook
the year the world took the z-pill
PR     Jun 17, 2017

We can only hope he has learned a lesson from all this, but I doubt it. More than likely, he'll take his ideology to the next county or state and begin voting in the same policies that made Baltimore what it is.
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