Last weekend was the first time I’ve had fun in a while.
Personally, think I’m coming out of the funk a little bit.
I’ve made some enemies over the years & now? Well, lots of them are fucked. Say Bye, bye to
your little social club. What you gonna do now bad people?
So, if I kicked them while they were down – I wouldn’t be
any better, I wouldn’t feel any better. I’d spent years, wanting to win –
wanting to be right – wanting JUSTICE. But, not like this. Not like this. It
just left me feeling very, very hollow.
So, Fuck. Them. Fuck the Crown virus. Fuck the Coketard president. Fuck the Minnesota cops.
Rock On Kids in Hong Kong…
Gab-Dog was a pretty girl in a town that was known for its pretty
girls. She worked at an Irish pub that inhabited the towns oldest bank.
Everyone that met her was instantly struck by her natural onomatopoeia.
She was much younger than I, but we met and
bonded somewhere during low points in our lives and as far as girls go, she was
probably a much better friend to me than I was to her.
e.g. She: “He won’t F**k you because he’s in ‘Girlfriend mode’”. VS. Me: “She’s not even a real person yet”.
Oh, well, one night Gab-Dog goes out for drinks
w/ my Leprechaun buddy & my wannabe F**k tart to attempt to figure me out.
That same night, a guy at the Irish pub falls
down, hits his head, bleeds and pisses himself.
Long story short. “Where is she?” – “out back-
getting sick”. Cut to: “Gab-Dog, you’re standing in blood, piss and sick – I just
thought you should know”.
“Hans, You’re Great… you’re Great”.
Well, later when I got fired. I knew she’d hear
the story. I did what was right.
So now, years later. I know a pretty girl in a town that’s known for its pretty girls… that could totally go into “Rockstar!!!” mode if she ever sees me.
And I know, I’m guilty.