Year of writing 127. The bros.

5/7/12

So today I ran into the Ojai version of a gangster.  Let me describe this bro.  He is probably 5'10", yoked, shirtless at 10 PM while I'm leaving the cheap showing of "The Avengers," chilling by the post office, with a bicep wrap, shoulder piece, and tramp stamp all tribal.  He is red in places you shouldn't be red, and walks with his arms held out from his body like he's afraid that if they touch him he might turn gay.  He's probably gay, but says he hates fags.  This dude failed high school in a place where the graduation rate is above 90%, he works at his stepfather's septic tank business, and he brings a twelver of Natty Ice wherever he goes.  He is the reason I dislike southern California.  However, this time, as opposed to when I've been around bros like him as a teenager living here, I held my head high, kept talking about Dungeons and Dragons with the other nerds I was with, except maybe a little louder, and smirked the shit out of dude.  What's he gonna do anyway? I'm from Oakland motherfu**er.