1st Stop. . .

Salutations brethren, welcome to the Back of the Bus.   As a young adolescent, perusing the oft forgotten streets of Staten Island, NY, the thing I most looked forward to after school was done, was the ride home on the city bus. The school bell rung, you located your squad, orange or green MetroCards in hand, a couple of dollars for a slice and a 50 cent soda in your pocket,  and hustled to the first empty bus you could find, to get to the elusive, the exclusive, blue velvet and plastic accented throne of coolness: the back of the bus.  For us, the back of the bus was the epic-center of flyness, the town hall of steez, the mecca for cool shit.  The sensible lames sat up front, the middle riddled with a mixture of immigrants, more lames, and those unlucky bastards who just didn't make it in time to be a part of the lituation that was sure to take place in the back of that back.  But if you were in that lucky number, you were fortunate enough to be privy to the latest gossip, rub shoulders with the light skinned girls with name plates and Crest jeans, the cool dudes from dangerous neighborhoods and worse reputations, spit fire roasting sessions, colorful conversations of varying levels of intellect, the occasional fight, lies, truths, and everything in between.  That's what this website is all about; a proverbial food fight of opinions and commentary that can go any which way we choose.  No holds barred, no tongues held and no fare to pay.  So yeah, you can sit with us here, on the Back of the Bus.

- A. Borders