Dear Banksy,
I’m a ten-year without an art class because there’s no money
for school.
Please enrich the South Bronx by painting something on a
wall so we can sell it for art supplies AND THE BLOOMBERG MAN IS MAKING ME SAY
THIS!!! BANKSY DON’T COME HERE!!! IT’S A TRAP!!! NOOOO!!! DON”T HURT ME!!!
AIEEEEEE!!!
Sincerely yours, Danny Aponte, missing in action somewhere
in an old issue of The National Lampoon when it used to be funny.
Fantasy is wonderfully married to Reality.
And they had babies.
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