All gone to pot

I’m fifty-five years old today, or tomorrow, or some day right around this one, anyway. It seemed a good time for reflection, introspection, and other forms of mental masturbation, but after giving it a go all I came up with was this:


My last twenty year plan was to get where I am today, and my new one is to dance all the way to the end. It doesn’t really matter if it’s doable — the last one wasn’t either. 🙂

Seriously, now: I have no idea how to ensure the viability of my business beyond the next few years. There’s a motherfucker of a recession coming because the rich are eating their way up the food chain and just don’t give a damn about the rest of us, and they’re going to commodify, consolidate, monopolize most of my clients right out of business before they’re done. It’s pretty clear that the motivation to address the problem rather than the feelings about the problem hasn’t come yet and may not before it’s too late for everyone. The solutions are easy enough, but the problems are not mine to solve…

So, the world being not mine to save, we went to the Mexican restaurant, got some tasty food and intoxicating beverages, and Amethyst got them to sing birthday songs to me in two languages. My Spanish has atrophied to the point of ordering food and finding the bathroom, but I caught something about getting drunk in there and downed my gift shot of tequila, then grinned when during the English version I became “dear Panchito”. Tacos de asada, tequila, y Durban Poison, it sure has lessened my load.

I had a hundred dollar bill and holding it sure was a thrill but I already spent it on pot.

I had more to blog about, maybe even worth reading, but there’s something else old guys get on their birthdays and Amethyst tells me it’s time for mine, so…


3 thoughts on “All gone to pot

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