Judging from this newspaper, Doc, you’d think that everybody in New York was either a pickpocket, blackjack bammer, or a member of the burglars’ union. Looks to me as if the chief duty of a newspaper in this here town of N.Y.C. is to toss its customers assorted murders for breakfast, holdups for lunch, and divorces for dinner.
Protecting Project Pulp No. 19: Tom Thursday
November 20, 2012 by Frederic Himebaugh