Happy Hour with the Wino

What's it to be then eh? Well you bright cellovecks and devotchkas of 2086 always know that for an amusing antedote about how stinking rotten the world has become and let us not forget the little excuses given by the old drunkies, all you have to do is drop of bit of pretty polly for a few rounds of the suds or if like feeling generous a veteran or two.
These starry babootchkas and vonny stinking old vecks will tell you about how there used to be like law and order in the world. That man did not care about spinning around the Earth in an orbital or floating in a tin can to Mars like Major Tom. Whoever that drek was.
There were a couple of piatsias with their manky toothless cats one evening. A flip dark chill bastard of a night, though dry. Talking away about how mooch wasn't made of soy and had real flavor. Like what would food be made out of if not soy? So gone was their minds from the drink. But still it was amusing to have a sit and a listen. For we knew that later on when the millicents came around that they would go on about how we were good boys and had been there all night with them. A few rounds of drinks will do that.
So there was me, your humble narrator, with a pocket full of deng and the shiny stuff I crasted from a few odd shops after a bit of the old ultraviolence on the dreks working within. Listening to the ladies with their cats go on about how I was a good boy who had been there all night, because they were wanting me to be safe and not filly about with a filthy devotchka that had spatted with a few too many cellovecks. How that in their time there was only one incurrable social disease unlike the twelve or so we have today. 
Well if I get something at least my meat and two veg will just fall off instead of having to be like sick for years. Mensch, if I only had a social service card, I could go to the good people at Angel Light and not worry about a thing.
Anyways and another time, best be off to beddie bed before I have to buy another round.