starting to snow.
i did, yeah.
he' s no t lovin g lif e righ t now, obviously . i don' t know. he' s har d t o read .
where to? throwing him a goodbye party at velvet?
what do i have to do to rate one of those velvet parties? aside from getting locked up for seven years.
listen, they found six hundred and fifty g's in your boy's sofa cushion. they got every white junkie on the east side saying brogan's the sell. game over.
it's u.s . code. there's nothing to argue. who do i argue with, the fucking grid? it's seventy-eight to ninety-seven months, automatic. i kept him out of stepback* kep_t him in the world for a few extra months --
it's pretty common for non-violent offenders. he's a white boy with no record and his father put up his bar as the bail bond. they're not worried about him jumping.
someone dimed him out. you know who? uncle blue and valghobek watch the lawyer, impassive and silent.
none of my business.