Fax Machine Anthem

Get your damn hands up...where's my witness. I'll be closing again tonight, and somewhere along the way that tattoo morphed into a straight-up brand, cause I don't see it leaving until I ship out of Holland.

Also, I'll be free-pouring tomorrow...trying to get myself fired in as many ways as possible.

I don't have much to say, except I think I had the worst waitress in the history of man last night. The only excuse I have for her is everytime we ordered something...she had to walk to a liquor store to buy the ingredients, walk back, then buy a bartenders guide, look up how to make it, call someone from Europe, and have them deliver it to our table. If that's what happened then I totally understand, but anything that steers from that agenda even a little bit is total bullshit.

One of these days I'm going to learn how to make Carino's pasta salad. Until then, I guess I'll have to work there.

Nice comeback...