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Tourists
Oh I yearn for the days of Koch and Dinkins where the crime rate was high and the streets were free of idiot fucking tourists who stop in packs of sandal-and-black-sock-wearing lumpy butt douchebags who fucking stop to look at a fucking map in front of the fucking exit of the Fulton Street subway stop so that commuters are wedged nine-fucking-deep to fucking wiggle through your begging-to-be-mugged type.
And please someone give me some piss baloons to throw at the fuckers on the top floor of those double decker-slow-down-to-a-crawl-to-hell-with-the-eighty-cars-behind-me buses.
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