I call myself a one percenter not because I am insanely wealthy, but because I cannot relate to the insanely wealthy trustafarians currently enjoying a nice autumn camp out with no worries. Also, their retarded, unwashed aunts and uncles.
I spent six hours in a crawlspace yesterday. In a crawlspace on the Sabbath, two months after I had a fucking heart attack, in order to pay my rent. One should never have to spend a weekend day in a crawlspace without at least the luxury of a 14-year-old boy to bury. At least there's memories there. Possibly video.
Go, and read the whole magnificent thing.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment