The Ruby Slippers

Each night on the Tucson BLM, we would have a big campfire with live music and welcome anyone who stopped by. Our only requirement was that guests not be Trump Humpers or nationalist whack jobs. The BLM is lousy with single, angry, white men living in squalid cargo vans. If and when someone proved to be a hater, we would tell him (it was always a him) to leave our campfire and then hope he didn’t come back and shoot us.

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