I go on vacation
Then I go back to the fucking mill
I go on vacation
Then I go back to the fucking mill
I go on vacation
Then I go back to the fucking mill
I go on vacation
Then I go back to the fucking mill
I go on vacation
Then I go back to the fucking mill
I go on vacation
Then I go back to the fucking mill
Then I am going to die, motherfuckers
3 comments:
Seasons greetings Beer.
Hopefully when you do eventually die... you don't end up back at the mill.
Mrs. Motorcycleguy and I had Chinese food on the weekend. OK...Canadian Chinese. My fortune cookie said "Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone." No shit. At first I thought this was a pretty sombre thing to read after a good meal. I took it to mean get my ass in gear and finish all the projects strewn about the garage and the cabin. But, it meant do not put off going to Mexico.
People forget they only live once. That's why the yuppie motherfuckers hogging all money get away with their greedy swindling of the rest of the world.
If I died and ended up back at the mill I would be haunting the place. Then, in death, I would soon find myself out of work when the mill shuts down forever and the yuppie motherfuckers move in and begin complaining about the price of gas, their mortgage, the fucking government and the feeling they are being haunted by an old sawmill worker with a beer in his hand.
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