Thirteen-year-old Tim Neisler was behind the wheel of his dad’s ’76 Chevy Monza watching the scam go down with false calm. His dad’s junkie friend, Ricky, was in the passenger seat leaning out the window and holding what was supposed to look like a wad of twenties, but was actually 20 one-dollar bills wrapped in one 20-dollar bill. The target was Rafa, the heroin lord, sitting in the driver’s side of his brand new white Trans Am, his girlfriend next to him. Rafa was supposed

I have been arrested more times than I can count. I have more mug shots than school photos. I have done both county jail time and state prison time. I was the kind of criminal that thought that every time I was back out on the streets, this time, I’d find a way around the law. But eventually everyone gets caught. The criminal life is a fool’s life. Even though you’d think that after so many times in cuffs, or in the back of a police car, or cramped in a holding tank with 40 o