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  1. Dave it was a different place.
    But I don’t like the location of this range either. someone walking by to get to/from living room can catch a pot/pan handle and the whole hot pot comes tumbling down.

    I would have flip flopped the range and sink locations. Plus, you wouldn’t have a hood to look at from living room.

    And I do realize that kids can reach up and grab a pot/pan handle from a range nestled between 2 cabinets. But to put a range as shown in that apt is having two access points to it.

  2. Biff, that’s a nice place…oddly yet interestingly laid out I think. Some will complain about walking through the kitchen to get to the bathroom or the dining room but I like it.

    If I’m not mistaken, we saw that a long time ago here and ET was complaining about the range being where it is; i.e. in so much that a child could reach up on it.

  3. I’m just a latch key kid with a snotty nose
    High school drop out
    Space, I’m around me whiteout
    And I ain’t dealin with no minimum wage
    I’d rather construct rhymes on a minimum page
    Cynical ways, cats sin for nickels these days
    Pulling the chrome out
    And you actin like pullin the chrome out
    Hated the sound of grandma’s cryin the crooked letter
    You could hear it from the ground or when the sky thunders
    Made you wonder ’bout early
    Sunday morning
    Relatives dressed in black and they all mourning
    Flows be bangin in the paint, throwin elbows
    My first fight was me against five boroughs
    I lost my first witch
    But remembered every detail of my first kiss
    That’s that Bronx Tale bliss
    The holiest of holies
    Hip hop, it was ’88
    Even at the age of 10, phrases levitate
    Drinkin Lil’ Hug quarter waters
    Dodgin stray slugs on the corner in that exact order
    While you playin, death is what happens
    I found the passion in aerosol cans and hands clappin
    Backspins, microphones and cats rappin
    Linoleum and up rockers, the show shockers
    Who rip Lee patches off of imposters
    You ain’t the Real McCoy, you a wind up toy
    And it’s gonna cost ya
    And that’s my B-Boy Alpha

    B-Boy Alpha Lyrics by Cannibal Ox are the property of the respective authors, artists and labels.

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