Go Away

You’re the worst kind of human being. Worthless, gambling all your money away, smelling like last week’s rotten grape harvest-- are you ever going to get your shit together? Don’t sit here and tell me you’ve got a job now, you’re making yourself useful now, because I can read you like a fucking book. I’ve seen your type countless times and you never really change until you realize you have no option left. What’s next, are you gonna bet the orchard in some drunken game of blackjack next? Is it really gonna take Meryl and Ronald out on the streets and destitute to get you to realize that you don’t just live your life for you. Everything you do effects everyone around you, especially in a small town like this. Think about that.

You really need to find something to do with your life besides... whatever it is you’re doing now. I’ll never be able to understand how you deal with flirting relentlessly with a bunch of worthless drunks all day long. You’ve told me before that you’re careful, you’ve got it under control, but eventually your luck is going to run out, and if you don’t wanna find yourself as corpsed, bruised, bloodied and naked in the dumpster of some alleyway, I suggest you figure something out.

Do me a favor and tell her not to do anything stupid.

Good.

No.

No.