Often, when I’m walking through Brooklyn, the sweating black garbage bags on the sidewalk start moving. There’s a pattering sound coming through the plastic. Then a fat pink tail or a snout pops out, or there’s a flash of matted, greasy gray fur and I yelp with recognition: it’s a fucking rat. Read more...
Often, when I’m walking through Brooklyn, the sweating black garbage bags on the sidewalk start moving. There’s a pattering sound coming through the plastic. Then a fat pink tail or a snout pops out, or there’s a flash of matted, greasy gray fur and I yelp with recognition: it’s a fucking rat. Read more...
Often, when I’m walking through Brooklyn, the sweating black garbage bags on the sidewalk start moving. There’s a pattering sound coming through the plastic. Then a fat pink tail or a snout pops out, or there’s a flash of matted, greasy gray fur and I yelp with recognition: it’s a fucking rat.
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