Possibilities

DECEMBER 3, 2010 11:09PM

Hidden desires in a South American hideaway

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The air was tense in the South American shantytown, the sound of sambas echoing only in people's minds, replaced by the rat-a-tat tat of machine guns sending drug dealers and innocent bystanders alike scattering as hundreds of marines and police zig-zagged their way through the corridors of open sewage, up to the drug lord’s hill-top lair, each secretly hoping to catch a glimpse inside, visions of grandiose opulence flickering first in their collective imagination and then before their very eyes only to be forever altered by the sight of a wall bearing a painted image—as they rounded the corner—of a certain mop-haired, male teen heartthrob whose eyes alone would know the stories behind the rumors of the notorious drug trafficker who’d long before escaped into the fetid, murky alleys.

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Does this count as a twitter entry or do I actually have to tweet it?