I hate it when he says, “Some of ya…”
It’s “you” dammit, “you”.

More stories of hardship and suffering and plucked heartstrings.

He’s all chocked up. He’s gonna cry. Subway trains. Buses. “Maybe she’ll eat dinner. But she knows she’s got to get up early.” Jeeez - don’t we all?

“It ain’t about me.”
Heh. (Oh yes it is!)