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This is where I type my thoughts.
When I grew up, we ate cheesesteak, root for the Eagles, watched Fresh Prince, and went down the corner to see what Dog Trap was up to. Of course, back then he was called Skirt Cone. We were ten.
Skirt was a middle child of eight and he talked like it. He knew everything and he was loud. And when he was funny, he was funny. But we only got to see him every other year, before he'd wear his moms out and she'd pack him up and send him to his dad in Red Hook, who it turn only put up with