every time unmarked cop cars drop me off in front of my apartment i worry that people are going to start thinking i’m an informant. i don’t know who those people would be. it was all worth getting robbed if only for sunday, when a detective came upstairs to fetch me and i greeted him at the same time as the guy who is *always* smoking weed on our hall walked outside and audibly almost peed himself when i said “hi detective.” also, i failed to keep stop snitching pretty drastically. in fact i snitched about as much as you can. we got him dirk. it only took me about two seconds to pick dude out. unfortunately if he gets served like the cops predict it will take him in the vicinity of 120 years to get over it. the lesson, as always, is don’t rob me.
forthcoming: we discuss JM Coetzee, racism, business casual dress.
Pete Beatty 
keep stopping the stopping of snitching. i think that’s what i’m trying to say. trade me a quarterback please.