Bottomless Margaritas

For only 9.99, looked to be quite a bargain, according to Tito the parrot and Roberto the Cat, these two character knew something about the extremely rusted out, nickel plated, and ambulance on stand by vomit inducing sugar high refills of rot gut margaritas that I only suspect. Bottomless Margaritas are the must do thing for 9 to 5 ers who want to spend an entire weekend hugging the edges of a toilet bowl in some piss filled stench ridden bar bathroom, inhaling acrid pain to the nose filtered luckily by the excessive amount of this paint removing substance posing as alcohol used by the local hotel maintence staff as paint remover, thankfully by the 3rd round of drinks a hallucingenic psychosis delivers such an intense set of delusional activity the entire event will seem no worse than a night wasting a night playing trivia on one of those portable gaming modules they hand to those who by way possible endure human contact but must drink for a living.Binge drinking on the cheap is just another level in the endless consumption trail that exists all over the city, not much different than the buffet and the two for one happy drinks at any local college themed bar wet t-shirt contest included. Since I have shut everything down in the fun dept, most of this type of middle class fun eludes me, yet somehow the memo did not reach the men at the prison gates, as long as I have a credit card, the desire to get fucked up, and an entire previous week spent doing nothing but grinding out a living trying come up with cashflow, new business, and spinning around a carousel of people like to check in for drink, drugs, and late night hours, prison break occurs and after little sleep and much money spent, the next day become a total waste, a write off. It is really getting in the way with the new lockdown philosophy that is going to get me out of this spiral which is leading to slow descent to oblivion.

When people try to squeeze you to gauge how much game you have, it feels like a big waste of time, considering how I have been down from the start, once others get leverage on you, nothing seems to matter, loyality, effort, committment, or desire, at the end of the day I am still just making money for these people, nothing more, nothing less, enough others come around, work for less then tell the people at top, those who are holding the entire three ring circus together are no longer useful, if anything these people are an expense who can be replaced, we all can be replaced, don't be fooled, we are all in the scope, of people high on sniffing their own shit, slaves to that brown mist making their eyes tear up and buy the lies mid level management have been so famous for selling.

Watched a two man team lay down the white block rectangular crosswalk mats which are placed on the ground to be smoothed out by one worker as the other with a butane flamethrower like machine, slowly roasts the crosswalk mats onto the blacktop surface of the street. The smoother must have some real confidence is his co-worker cause I would not feel to comfortable with another guy waving around a flamethrower three to four feet away from me, too dangerous, what if the butane machine guy shows up drunk, starts daydreaming, or just is in a fowl mood, few seconds later there is an arm looking like a burnt up hot dog, yet some folk have to almost do anything nowaday to get by, which means even putting your life in danger. The smoother did not appear too unnerved, just as robotic as the flame operator, going through the motions of the hourly wage, all to happy to feel the heat of that lit butane singe the ends of his arm hair, if there was any left to begin with by now anyway. Confidence and fear of losing it all are so much closer to each other than given credit.