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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.
We parked here, we drank here, we settled scores here.
Thank you, Union High, for teaching me to never, ever drop my child.
Don't forget to mark up your forehead before you roll in late on Ash Wednesday.
Z-Cavs. Cuff em' tight.
Bloomfield or Newark?
Don't even think about strapping that strap.
Union..... Farmer.... Makes sense, right?
Ahhhh.... The Kitchen Sink.
Where fat laces, ear piercings, name necklaces and sticky floors were commonplace.
Have a hot dog, watch an accident.
Where girls from Union went to find cooler boyfriends from out of town.
Due to open investigations, I am not at liberty to discuss what happened on the tracks.
Barry and Flo, RIP.
I'm sure all the ladies are glad to see a little MD in the gift list.
We parked here, We drank here and we hid from the goons here too.
The CD has nothing on a Saturday Night Dance Party off HOT 103.5