
For those of you who don't know the story of my street name, it all started with a woman Dr. S and I saw on the bus. She was wearing a trucker hat over unruly long red hair, a satin baseball jacket, and a t-shirt with the word "Princess" on it in big, glittery, cursive letters. She was sitting in the nutjob seat (across from the driver) monologuing about various issues, when she said, "My name is ___, but my street name is Princess." After she got off the bus, a man in a dapper brown 70s-style three-piece suit, hat, and cane sat down in her seat. He then complained loudly for 10 minutes or so about the smell she allegedly left behind, but I suspect "he who smelt it dealt it."
Anyway, the next week Dr. S and I discussed what my street name should be, and Bad Ass Jfro what what we finally came up with. It rolls trippingly of the tongue, don't you think? T-shirts are available at reasonable prices.
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