Capitalism and the Cripple –

High School leftover, passed the Federal quota test on way to a good bank with his own ID, and now, new couldn’t help himself nearly new car salesman.
The clear cloud sky with its own shining sunlight, rein to his indecipherable lack of heavy metal and machine tooled memory, but, it was quick to battle rampart for hot flame car-based allegory, abstraction, all the metaphor they could drink-in, winking and sex appeal, and put trunks up and attach balloons on Sundays.
Art escaped his eyesight, the hearing aid didn’t help either – “what, what, what?!”
Constant double-track price confusion on his little piece of the forecourt, the poor odds possibility for accountants with non-disabled prejudices for cripples who “couldn’t piss up a wall.”
In the world of the thumping gavel, it’s illegal to fire a “Sparta Spastic” over any Tannoy System.

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