Man, am I bitter. Damn all those politicians for ruining my dreams. I was so close. So, so close. I was all set to default on my mortgage, quit my job, abandon my wife and kids ” all to pursue a dream; a higher dream. That’s right, the dream of endless glorious days sitting in the bum circle at the base of the pier, swilling cheap malt liquor. Indeed, the simple dream of hounding folks for a few spare bits to achieve that next pint; the dream of doing nothing but being a free soul, man.
Gosh. What now?
How will I go on knowing that my dreams have been crushed? Howling in the pier parking lot after a marvelous day of endless Colt .45? Oh, well, now that my dream is dead, I guess I have no more excuses for not taking my three little ones down to the big beach next summer. How much longer until they realize the cliffs are better anyway? Adios, circle of drunks. We’re really gonna miss ya!