stew

so what became of McNulty? this is the haunting refrain of my lilliputian frame, unless i get to dig the subconscious of the creative geniuses behind the wire. the deep recesses of my isothalamus is not yet framed to discuss the slow burning process that has kept me exhuming, researching and conferring with the sweeter, other half. i was mesmerized and confounded by the series. in a week, a month or so i’ll be ready to pick up the vibe of the cult and accord the arc and dramatization of urban decay its hyperbolic city of smiles perspectives.

whist i rollick in reading the vast and the grandiloquent the wire literature, here’s the delight of an interview. i’m walking past the political affiliations of the rag. because if there’s one thing i’ve gathered from all those midnight viewings in the marital bed, politics is not the be all and end all of greatness.