’Twas the night before Juneteenth, when all through the hood,
Not a creature was stirring, ’cept the thieves up to no good.
The chains were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Reparations soon would be there.
The little hood rats were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of stolen TVs danced in their heads.
Happy Juneteenth Eve, everyone.
Imagine sitting in your living room at 11pm on a Monday night. You hear the FSU war chant echo off the streets of your college town. You walk outside to see 300 of your classmates around your neighbors house. The local cops are sweeping house to arrest that shitbag. Electric