Powerball, Week 02. The air is out of the balloon or what is a measly million dollars to someone who can’t pay his rent anyhow? The smart money at the bar said that no one would win the night before. Well, the day after proved otherwise. Everybody spent the money now, mentally speaking, and went back to their day jobs. I am still a silent echo. A man wins a billion that he did not earn and give most of it away. That shows the absurdity of it all. What is this after all but a play on decimals and digits? My heart is failing and the constant intake of dairy products are killing me. I am beginning to wonder when checkout time really is? And, so f I had won, what mischief could I have made with the overflow? Some fingers going down the list and somewhere saying, Who abandoned who?” I wonder if Jabba the Hut’s job is still open? The mirror on the other side of the bar tells me I have got an honest shot at it. So where are these vagaries of date? I’m preparing myself for life on the street.
Bad headache, depression, boredom, all the usual suspects. No Baywatch babes in sight! Old brain is dry and out of gas in the smart Alec department. Everyone here no matter how fat or old or stupid retains some measure of flagging self-respect. The online media in every hand and on the wall will swallow your consciousness whole. That is, if the drinks don’t derail you first. So much disappointment for women here who live in ignorance of male regard. Modern marketing has far outstripped technological innovation. So we’ll have to make sue with even smaller portions of crap that one once would have never deigned to acknowledge. One’s consumption based upon the status of their free flowing bank accounts and Barbie Ken looks. The state of one’s beauty passes the talking stick. Makes the rules of how long you can wield it before more silence sets in. Sooner or later all are fated to overstay their welcome.
Why look for flaws and bad things in others? I’ve don my share of bad things! Sooner or later it all catches up to you. Sooner? Or most assuredly later! So by the standard understanding of the material oriented larger society, I’m a nobody. I don’t give a shot about my car. My pecker doesn’t have its own name. I’m not out to feel some old snatch. And yet, I seek oblivion in the safe harbor of old recorded sitcoms by that vacuum cleaner which my should of any doubt about me at all. I am empty. What’s the difference between you and your Physical possessions beyond the fact that you don’t come with a warranty. All things considered, I’m not long for this world. I don’t even want to enroll in Medicare, Part B! It seems we all strike a bargain of some sort. Our opinions like freshly emoted bottles quickly tossed but surrogates quickly there to replace the former comforting us that nothing substantial has changed. Pure illusions for no other purpose but the fill the space. Does anyone really know the difference? It’s just another day.