my friend thor carries around a small bass drum in a messenger bag he got at target and had to leave catholic school.
it wasn't over anything big. with a name like thor you'd think he would have done something awful or bad ass. he got dread locks. he played ice hockey. he was real italian. but his name was thor. that was something i always thought was neat.
anyway the other night we cut off thor's dreadlocks. we were drunk. he lost risk. he didn't notice, really. in the morning his hair looked just like little stevie van zandt in the sopranos. not with that stupid fucking doo rag bandana. that hair that you can see where it was glued on, even though it wasn't.
things like this make you wonder what else we hide.
my friend thor hides a small bass drum in a messenger bag he got at target.
my friend thor rocks his adidas and he's never rocked filas.
my friend thor decided one day to move into the jungle between 16th and 19th and between callowhill and hamilton, what used to be noble street. 19130. philadelphia, pa.