I'm not emo, just incredibly hungover. I believe I've been this way all week, and don't doubt the week before. I know I could stop, and know why I should, but can't guess why I would. I've got a great job, a good life, people that care about me, others that depend on me- not exactly the stuff of country western songs. So why reach for a crutch to beat myself with? Perhaps because it hurts so good. And if it wasn't booze, it'd just be something else.
This week's haiku go out to all who fall off the wagon.
"Root Beer" Tapper
sarsaparilla man
still will not serve budweiser
it is satan's brew
I am not amused
please stop shaking my sodas
retarded burglar
kindly unhand me
this is not a speakeasy
don't you like root beer?
sarsaparilla man
still will not serve budweiser
it is satan's brew
I am not amused
please stop shaking my sodas
retarded burglar
kindly unhand me
this is not a speakeasy
don't you like root beer?
