So what's it all about, riding crazy bikes through the alleys? Or feeling the weight of the eyes on your back?
Where we have most all played on teams wearing the same T-shirts or baseball caps and whatnot, we know the warm-fuzzy feeling of belonging, of being part of a greater whole. Few, however, have felt the unparallelled sense of comraderie and unity generated by sporting, as a club, a big gruesome embroidery proudly emblazoned on one's vest back.
Interested? Prospects apply here, but first listen.
Night is when the dead babies ride.
None of us wear the baby slayer patch, but the Girl Scouts of America see fit to dispense it. And you thought they just sold cookies. Frightening. |
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