...on the obligatory end of year post

...special what happened this year post

this year the bastard flew out to arizona alot to visit the boy

the mofo moved back to new york and then stopped writing for us altogether

the bastard made himself poor after making himself comfortable doing the devil's work. shoulda formed that llc this year.

the bastard threw up on the job and realized that he still won't let the machine break down. that's fucking team work.

jonny airplanes skipped town to join the coast guard and to become a midwestern land baron.

the chairman and i discovered barbecue down the road a piece.

a 7-11 opened up down the road. and we were very happy for it.

the apartment flooded not once but twice.

there was some road construction in tucson and it disrupted imaginary prostitution rackets on the highway. so much for jet lag.

the bastard wrote some poems.

the boy couldn't come out this time for his birthday and that made me sad but, at least i still have my health.

so that's what the bastard's got in a nutshell. maybe next year i'll finally catch that prize mullet. maybe i'll go on that boar hunt. but tonight, i'm going to have italian food with my ladyfriend and toast the future. cause that's what i got. a future. see you next year, chumps.

—the bastard

POSTSCRIPT: one night while the bastard was out of doors, at the mad russian's, the teacher told me that she red this crap and looks forward to my batshit ranting. and for the last few weeks, i've thought about giving it up. i'm not as angry as i used to be and i've been working alot and i've been unhappy alot. also, i have members of the family who don't like the whole thing altogether and i've dwelt on that as well.

then the teacher just sent me a text to come out this evening for new years and while i have plans to eat in manhattan tonight, i remembered that night, down on my luck, marriage falling apart, and drunk off my ass and someone told me that i could write. granted, left hand rob told me i wrote like e.e. cummings on speed but i didn't know the teacher as well as i knew lobster. either way, i remember the nice thing you said that night. and it meant a lot to me at the time. thanks teach. and yeah, i'll still keep writing this horseshit. it beats the crap out of therapy.

—B