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Union..... Farmer.... Makes sense, right?
Don't even think about strapping that strap.
Bloomfield or Newark?
Z-Cavs. Cuff em' tight.
Don't forget to mark up your forehead before you roll in late on Ash Wednesday.
Thank you, Union High, for teaching me to never, ever drop my child.
We parked here, we drank here, we settled scores here.
The CD has nothing on a Saturday Night Dance Party off HOT 103.5
We parked here, We drank here and we hid from the goons here too.
I'm sure all the ladies are glad to see a little MD in the gift list.
Barry and Flo, RIP.
Due to open investigations, I am not at liberty to discuss what happened on the tracks.
Where girls from Union went to find cooler boyfriends from out of town.
Have a hot dog, watch an accident.
Where fat laces, ear piercings, name necklaces and sticky floors were commonplace.
Ahhhh.... The Kitchen Sink.
A young hussies garb would not be complete without wrestling shoes.
Yo, Yo Yo Little Brother.
Cosi Crest, IOU and every color of Cavs under the rainbow.
Because an overnight stay just wasn't in the budget.