I feel like going into one of those pubs like in the movies and order shots and start talking to the barman out of the blue and spill out all my shit. He’ll probably try to get away as I’ll also get less coherent and repeat my self, but I’d probably go: “get back here I’m not done yet”. By the time I’ll be done he’d wish he never took the job or ever set foot in that place.
And would have a grand finally with a puke all over the bar. Yeah! And then yell: aaw, fuck you all, and try to do a funky dance although the music is in no such beat and trip and wipe half the vomit off the bar on my way down. That would do i think.