Bartenders Hear All of Our Regrets

they hate me... they all hate me....

I just can't do it anymore... I can't keep screwing these people... I mean shit, how many gold covered toilet seats does Jamie Dimon need anyway? Just last month, my own dear Nanna sent me a birthday card... she's always sent me a twenty dollar bill in the past... you know what she sent me this birthday? A hand drawn "twenty Ben Bernanke Fun Bucks" bill... instead of Andrew Jackson on the $20 bill (yeah, I get the jab there Nanna), it had a picture of my face pasted on the thing... She told me in the card what an asshole I've become and to have fun spending my birthday funny money... My own dear Nanna told me to eat shit and die - on my birthday.... but you know what? You know what??!! She's right....<slurred word>  ... she's right... My God what kind of a schmuck have I become?... I can't keep screwing a bunch of frugal retirees just so Lloyd can keep wiping his ass with fifties... What kind of a schmuck have I become?