Beer two miles high

Alright now where was I. Oh yeah—standing at the intersection of law and ethics, remembering a little bit too late that I'd told myself many times before to never forget that no such place exists, and wondering what sort of fuckery I'd gone off and gotten myself into this time in order to let something of such significance slip my mind like that and land myself in the middle of nowhere again. So here I am I guess and wherever here is and how I got here is a mystery I guess but honestly I'm not too concerned because they serve beer here so I should be good. Untappd Sucks Down IPA. Wild Bill's is right across the street; Suicide Bob just shuffled by with his dog and I'm not really sure what to make of that situation. Someone walked into a school and shot a bunch of kids the other day but nobody of any import noticed or even cared and the pigs who get paid with the money they steal from us every other week didn't even try to stop it so it will probably happen again sometime soon. Maybe I'll be the next one to get shot for no reason—always stay positive; you never know what could happen! At least that's what I tell myself when I'm on the line scrambling to make food for 10 hours straight with no break for what feels like the entire population of Denver. Guess how much I care that you had to wait hungry over there for 45 minutes to get your goddamn fucking chicken pesto sandwich while I slaved away making food for all the people who showed up 45 minutes before you? That's correct; I don't give a goddamn shit about you or your sandwich, and in fact I actually hope you choke to death on those french fries I gave you to go on your way back to the goddamn fucking Front Range. Suicide Bob and his dog just walked by again and I feel like the writing is on the wall now so I think I should probably just stop. I really wish I didn't hate myself so much but it is what it is and I am where I am. Alright now where was I.