Like the last couple days of a camping trip where there's nothing in the cooler but some milky
water and a graying lump of what may once have been burger.
A lowly peanut butter granola bar passed over by all but the
bravest of scavengers. No folks it's merely a slowdown, a welcome
respite from the madness of 21st century consumption.
And to all you fine able bodied bums in the unemployment line I say:
Get a damn job! America wouldn't have such ridiculously high
unemployment numbers if people would just go to work! Besides,
this line is freaking ghastly and if I can even motivate a few of you
to get the f#$% out my way I'll get my check and hence my beer that much sooner.
I'm not worried. No bank would'a loaned me money anyway even
if I did want to buy this here trailer and I know from a lifetime of experience that it takes at least six months before the sheriff makes good on those threats.
So relax, crack a cold one, go score a bag off my man Phelps
down the street and buy a few tee shirts.
In fact buy a white one so it really shows off those sweat stains.