Good Times

On the far right is a long time friend of mine named Percy. We basically grew up together in a horrible place called Palmdale. We talked about our struggles growing up and all of the trouble we got into as teens.

One day we had to walk about 20 miles from east Palmdale to west Palmdale for reasons I choose not to disclose. However, during this walk, in addition to being called the sweet nickname "nigger" by driversby, we were absolutely famished. Starving. Neither of us, as usual, had a dime to our names. We walked to my house and all i could do was hope that at my place of residence there was something that could remotely be called nourishment. Several cramps and hours later we walk through the front door of my furniture-less house and soon lay our eyes on a pizza box as my mom says "the rest of that is yours." In sheer joy and excitement Percy and I walk to the box and open it. Half a pepporoni pizza! Covered in ants. Good times.