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  1. So last night, coming home from work, I’m walking up Stuyvesant Ave chatting with this guy from the neighborhood about how bad Al Vann is. Vann was standing in Fulton Park with a bullhorn thanking everybody for their votes ( even though collectively, all the other candidates got more) and to vot in November.

    So I have two bags of food that I bought in manhattan at the Amish Market and one of them hits one of those iron tree gard fences and my “fancy expensive Asshat olive oil that I brought to the ghetto” breaks and the oil gets all over my shoes and suit pants.

    I was sooo pissed. It did however make the shoes look a lot nicer.

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