My brother and I. What was your hair like back then? Grinning and drawing our versions of Michael Keaton and Jack's Batman comic books. Misspelling "boom" "bom." In all fairness, guns do not go "boom boom boom boom." The sound is more like "bom bom bom bom." When we finished we swapped pages to see what our batmen were going to do next in our pulp comic books and laughed and awed and exchanged notes. Remember when we used to draw our own pornography too? There was an afternoon playing with lyrics and writing songs and our ROJA club. The roaches of joes apartment. No girls allowed. We had business cards and held official meetings. No sisters allowed either. We had gun fights with folded paper. There was a rap song whose headline was about making lemonade and the best ways to do it. It was our theme song and at the very end, recorded on a yakbak was the closer: "Don't waste time / standing in a line. Come right over / to our bank!" And an illustration of a pile of money in front of a teller's window. That bank would not stay afloat for long. Everyone likes free money. The riots! The world is not take a penny
leave a penny.
With great aspirations and the best of intentions. As laid down by ROJA standards and reinforced honor super omnia, we set forth. Wind at our backs, my brother and I. What was your smile like back then? What would your Timothy Burton batman comic book look like today. This instant. The sound is more like the sound an iron rod makes when struck against brick. Like a staple gun on steroids with a penchant for burning matches.
