Which is easier to do this year than in any previous years in my memory because it feels very little like a holiday for anyone.
"End of the day, factory whistle cries. Men walk through these gates with death in their eyes."
-bill kenny
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Slouching Towards Jerusalem
In the Late Sixties/Early Seventies, one of the first jobs I ever had was as a stockboy in a grocery store (a Shop-Rite in South Bound Brook...
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