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About Kingston

I’m pissed, tho—why’s it so tricky? Small town blues, man! Web’s all “search X, browse sites,” but I’m scared Marge’d catch me. “Homer, you pig!” she’d scream. Happy tho—imaginin’ it’s like *Great Beauty*, all glamorous, not sleazy. “Life’s a parade,” Jep says—I’d strut, fat gut and all, lookin’ for my Roman fling! D’oh! Prolly trip over Apu’s trash first.

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First off, I hit the road on Main St. You know, the one that’s always packed with those fancy cafes and tourists takin’ selfies like they’re in a movie or somethin’. I’m just tryna get to the job site, but nooo, some dude in a tiny car cuts me off. Like, bro, you see this big ol’ tractor? You think you can just squeeze in? I honked, of course. Gave him the ol’ tractor salute. You know, the finger.

Man shot by policeman in Old Harbour