Distress Call

Readership, i'm in trouble, broadcasting from my cellphone. While in the urban wilderness of New
Haven, preparing an Observation on the sub-species of human being
called ''the crackwhore'' i was compromised. As i spoke to a
crackwhore (an adventure in and of itself), her dealer spotted me. One
look at Hat's soft black felt ass and my sexy mustache was all he
needed to conclude that i was a pimp trying to steal one of his
customers. Now, that was far from true - however this was hard to
communicate when 7 of his thugs freakin' Apparated all around. They
came outta the freakin' woodwork (like those midgets in the temple in
the last Indiana Jones movie); i'm sure that when i scoped out the
spot before i talked to the crackwhore, there weren't any crazy fucks
with Glocks and attitudes hanging around. I ran, of course, but didn't
get far; the crackwhore had fastened her arms securely around my
waist, cutting my usual near-Kenyan speed down to circa drew carey.
Thus i was captured and transported. Idk where i am. But i will
escape! Stay classy