only thing is, they're locked up in a penetentiary. separated from one another. wishful thinking. its a sad story. of studs and lucy lonigan. ah well, can't win 'em all, maybe not even one. studs lonigan by james farrell tells the story. in the pen, they became like pigs in a sty. all roly poly and fat. nothing to do there, but lay around. o'lay. frito bandito. like the song i fought the law the law won, by bobby fuller four and take the money and run, me and bobbi sue, etc. same old boring juvenile delinquent stories. and so, away they go. and the hot seat is all ready for them soon. fried forever. just like chicken. we shoulda shot it out with the law. you chicken shit sugar mama. if you'd only had more ammunition. but no, you left it in the car. you stupid dumb ass broad. cuffed and taken away. by straddle your nose and his gang of organized law enforcement hoodlums who get paid big taxes to oppress the people. maybe some of the symbionese liberation army members or the november 17th group will get us out soon before the seat of fry comes on my ass and hers. o'lay to che.
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