
This is a great Hate Man story from Fred:
“I got busted, sold to a undercover in 2004 in Peoples Park, did 6 months got out and hit the Park and here this old ass man comes up to me and calls my name. I’m like, “Whats up??” The old man was Hate Man. He tells me that He has my bags. I’m like, “Dude I dont know what the F your talking about, what bags??” He says: “Those two backpacks you left when you went to jail.” I’m like, “That was 6 months ago, F no.” So Hate Man goes and brings me my shit, everything is there. I really needed that, it had my stash and some money… I told him that I loved him and he was like, “Fuck u.” …. From that day on I found myself up at Hate Camp listening to theses crazy debates and battles of the mind, that was the place where I learned how to hold my own in a conversation. RIP Hate Man.”
Thanks, man — best remembrance of Hate Man I’ve seen yet. Wherever he is, I hope he’s resting in “fuck you” peace.
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