"Americans used to say where there's a will, there's a way. Nowadays, it's where there's a pill, there's a way out." - - Burnt Toast

Neverending Ghetto. . .

The sun is slowly setting in the west and the sky is lit bright with warm pastels of pink, orange and blue. The grumbling diesel of the concrete pump is a familiar sound that thankfully is overriding the angry back and forth of some supposed "contractors."

The law hath been laid by the architect and bulkhead is the answer that will haunt these motorheads over the next few nights as they kill the pain of their own idiocy with their drug of choice.

Two loads of concrete have so far been rejected and as the day turns into night and regular hours turn into overtime, well, I'd like to be positive and say that all will be o-tay Buckwheat. Yet, we are in the deep ghetto where I spent my early morning hours watching these characters sell and use drugs all morning long in the wide open.

I do have my trusty sidekick though and one hopes that this beautiful sunset will not be my last as our work goes into the night. . .

. . .but I guarantee one thing, if I am going out, then I'm taking a few of these worthless urchins with me in a blaze of glory. There would be no other way to be. And just for the safety of our construction industry, I might take a few of these "contractors" too.

- Sent from my iPhone

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