I like to drink shitty beer. I’m sorry, malt liquor, with high alcohol %age. That’s just me.
Actually, it started back in high school. Me, and the boys, we had 3 stores we could buy from. Legit, no hastle, pay your money and bail type shit. I like things like that. Strictly business between respectful patrons and purveyors. They got what I want, I got the money to get them what else you need.
Business. That is what makes the world go ’round. Like,,, “what do you do?”, theoretical response, “fuck you that’s my business!”. See! what we do is our business, or, your business, or my blahblah. (Not trying to say anyone is horning in on my ummm,,, life stuff, but yeah) Sometimes it’s best, or necessary, to keep business matters personal, and not get personal matters mixed up with business.
I often struggle with that. It’s like at work when you’re trying to talk and relate with co-workers on a business level, and then personality, or personal rather, comes to the surface. It’s not a bad thing. It just complicates business.
Ive been doin pretty cool lately. Tampa is kind of a ghetto paradise. I totally fit in. I be all like, rollin though the hood on my 2full tires. passing by the cryers and the sunday drivers. Always on the move or in some kind of spire. I simply aspire to climb a little bit higher. claim that I’m a lar and ill call you a denier. We’ll push back and forth until you turn me to a fighter. Then I light a fire that burns a little brighter. And then i know im righter and I’m a writer that’s a lefty. I guess you could detest me but dont ever fucking test me.