So I figured out why some people like me. They are a select few, no doubt, but they're out there, those likers. I get the liking from lots of people in work, of course, but they hardly count. I have a big in work act, you see, full of wry humour and gentle enthusiasm. The aforementioned booze lake was muchly supplied by these deluded Work Gimme admirers. Fuck, even I like the Work Me, most of the time, and I might well have parted with a bottle of whiskey myself, for myself, if I happened to be as rich as many of those generous bozos.
But even outside of this space of spin there are those that can shockingly stand me. And as I say, I think I've worked out why. It's to do with something I do, something I do because I don't know what else to do. But I'm not going to tell you what it is. Because you might well be one of those likers and I don't want to ruin it for myself. I quite like being liked when it doesn't involve any work on my part and as I stare down the barrel of another year of crushed hopes and self-inflicted inertia, I can't help but believe that other people not thinking I'm a cunt might eventually have me arriving at the same conclusion.