Yeah, yeah, I know my back fence is in a sorry state, and the back of my
garage likewise.
Just because I work for a class outfit like National Review, doesn’t mean I
have totally renounced my white-trash origins. “You can take the boy out of
the Bronx, but you can’t take the Bronx out of the boy.”
(Although, for the record, I’d like to note that we have a firm coming in to
give the property a new fence at the end of this month. The garage? Maybe
next year.)