rants

We walk into the theatre of life; greeted by ice cold smiles, certainly-confused-somebodies giving instructions on how to be like them, hopefully someday. One certainly-confused-somebody pours a whiskey as old as the fine young thing he hopes to corrupt with his stale sperm, sometime, later this evening. A confused piece of shit walks in with hopes of leaving a certainly-confused-somebody. He pitches his hopes and dreams, and he is promised a Tuesday afternoon meeting but tonight is not the night for all that jazz. Pipe down, uyakhinya sbali, your hopes and dreams will spoil a wonderful night.