One last fling, until the next last one
Since i'm going to be unemployed and broke as shit soon, I decided burn the bridge a little faster. Nothing helps motivation like panic. It's the way I just do this shit.
Went to the bar, slept a drunk ass sleep for an hour, went back to bar to buy mushrooms from a dude, got drunk, went to another bar with two of the bartenders (yeah, that's how often I go to the bar; I've been to 5 bartenders houses from 3 different bars), continued to get more drunk, one bartender pulls out a knife and tells us he's going to slit the throat of the tender at the bar we are now at. We manage to get the knife away while he slams it into the table a couple dozen times (nobody noticed, why? i dunno, maybe it's just the lay of the land at these bars.) Drop off the very drunk, crying, psychopathic bartender at his house. The other bartender and I go driving to another bar.
-don't you have a dui case tomorrow?
"Yup."
-right. lets go to the next bar then.
We philosophize over the guys talking to chicks at the next table while kereoke goes on (shitty), and get more drunk. Last call, we go to the Waffle House and try not to get into a fight.
All goes well.
Now it's today. And, by the twitching of my thumb, i think i'll go out and do something dumb. like spend more money i shouldn't and hope someone hires me during those two hours of sobriety while I wake up.
Yay! I am the only true american for miles, man. Support your bars, not your wars!