Some men are born to greatness…other men are born to just survive. This is a story of the latter. The Chronicles of WHAMMAGEDDON
HOLY CRAP! I was almost ended. Just needed to get a little jolt from that sweet-sweet caffeine bean and refill my nicotine dreams…when it started. That damn staccato synth sound made all the sweeter by the beautiful British boys of Wham. My heart fell to my knees. I rushed through my coffee routine…hampered by a drone of the system filling a cappuccino machine. Ooh…cappuccino sounds nice…FOCUS MAN! Headed to the counter, confident I was going to get out of there in time. Then I see him.
Body ravaged by narcotics abuse. Mind filled with the change necessary to purchase his pack of smokes found in his pocket. His hands as nimble as cold bricks spilled the necessary dimes, nickels and pennies to the floor. The Song pressed on…Finally my turn at the counter. Gas on 12…and a some devil sticks…NO MA’AM THE GREEN ONES NOT THE WHITES…Thank you…no I don’t want the receipt…and like Indiana Jones I barrel rolled out of there by the skin of my stained teeth. They almost got me, friend. But I’m still breathing. I’ll keep you close and updated with my… CHRONICLES OF WHAMMAGEDDON.