Thursday, July 30

Marijuana fun!

I received a lot of angry comments on my post about marijuana law, so I'm taking this opportunity to clarify my position. Yes, I believe that marijuana should be illegal. My political beliefs have nothing to do with my constant use of the drug. The fact is, smoking weed is a whole lot of fun, and I'm gonna tell y'all why!

Smoking marijuana doubles the effects of alcohol. Any pussy can drive drunk. But are you brave enough to smoke a bowl before taking that wheel? This doubling effect is especially useful when I'm paying full price for drinks, like at a comedy club. After three shots in the parking lot and a toke in the bathroom I get hammered enough to heckle comedians to tears!

Another good thing about smoking weed is the way it inspires us to gorge ourselves with junk food. There are three levels of this compulsion. There's the "eat an entire goddamn bag of Doritos" level. There's the Cici's Pizza/Golden Corral "binge until you can't eat or poop for a week" level. And for advanced users, there's the level where you roll around on a ghetto seafood buffet, gorging yourself like a maggot in a hospital dumpster!

Marijuana is also great just for entertainment purposes. Like when I blow a fat bong hit in the cat's face. The kids think it's hilarious when she gets all paranoid and scratches at their legs! And we had a great time putting a hot roach out on the dashboard of our neighbor's truck, just after his son returned home with it. Poor kid had to ride the bus for the rest of the year!

Smoking pot constantly is an easy road to a happier life. It has helped me to effectively bury my emotions for years at a time. I'm thankful for the safe emotional distance it has created between me and my needy-ass family. And speaking of family, I should add that marijuana also makes boring things more enjoyable, and enjoyable things laughably boring. But who cares, because I won't remember any of it anyway!


Monday, July 27

Might makes right!

My ex-husband Kevin and I always had a feisty relationship. He learned early on that when I'm angry I can only communicate through loud swearing and insults. I berated him, shoved him, even threw things at his head as he walked out the door. But no matter how much I pushed him, I never got him to resort to violence. Not even when I yelled, "A real man would fight back!".

During our separation he ended up moving into his mother's house. He had to sleep in his old childhood room, with the same old crappy twin bed and everything. Each night we would fight on the phone, and I'd continually threaten him until I got my way. But I guess I went too far the night that I threatened to destroy all our family photos!

Kevin showed up at the house the following day and got the kids to let him in. Then he went to the closet and collected our box of photos for safe keeping. I walked in and caught him. I ran up and tried to grab the box. He turned, dodged me, and headed for the door. I jumped on his back and tried to choke him, but I fell off him and banged my ankle on the door jamb.

He tried to help me up, but I told him to just take the pictures and go home. Then I called the cops and told them that he had shoved me down in front of my kids. I just wanted to give Kevin a scare. I had no idea how seriously the police took these things! Within an hour they were dragging him out of his mother's house in front of all her neighbors, some of whom she has known for 30 years!

I decided that it had gone far enough, so I called the arresting officer and told him the truth. He wouldn't listen! He said that domestic violence cases were handled differently, and that I'd have to speak on Kevin's behalf at his court date. Unfortunately my divorce attorney advised against it. Poor Kevin ended up in jail for three months, and I ended up with custody of the kids. So in that sense it all worked out.


Tuesday, July 21

I'm a naughty babysitter!

On the rare occasion that I have nothing to do, I like to earn extra cash by babysitting. Did you know that the going rate starts at $5 per hour per child? And it's untaxed! There's no reason to sit home drinking with my stupid kids running around when I could be getting paid good money to do the same thing at someone else's home with their stupid kids!

The kids aren't mine, so I'm not going to be a bitch. I let 'em do whatever the hell they want. And they always want to do what their parents won't let them. So I send them to play in the garage, or let them wrestle a couple of stray dogs in the back yard. While they're occupied with that, I'm taking cash and large coins from their piggy banks, or filling a bag with clothes that might fit my kids.

Since a babysitter isn't a parent, it's okay cut deals with the little fools. I always tell them that I don't want any fuss at bedtime, so I'll let them stay up 15 minutes later if they agree to not give me trouble. What they don't know is that I already turned the clocks ahead an hour, so now I have 45 extra minutes to enjoy myself before their parents get home!

It's when the kids go to sleep that babysitters really get to work. Sometimes you only have a couple hours to get everything done. You've got to eat all the good snacks, and put all the CDs and DVDs you want into the trunk of your car. It also takes time to rifle through their documents and drawers looking for savings bonds and gift certificates. When that's done I spend the rest of the time getting off with the parent's sex toys. And no, I don't bother washing them off when I'm done.


Thursday, July 16

Y'all need to go through me!

I work for one of the few Richmond companies that's actually hiring right now, yet our stupid HR guy decided to up and quit! Since I already have some experience in these matters, I've been tasked with not only finding his replacement, but also with hiring four more clerks to keep up with all the new accounts. It's a tall order, but that doesn't mean it can't be fun!

I posted the ad on the web, and 80 nice printed resumes were on my desk by the end of the next day. This is as many as I can handle. We actually received more than that, but everyone who sent one in digital format was given an auto-reply that their resume was infected with a computer virus and was deleted. The ad will be online for another week. Every resume I receive after the first batch goes straight into the trash.

Rather than comb through that first batch of resumes I just made our front desk girl contact them all to set up interviews. I decided right off the bat that everyone who got a ride from someone or took a bus to the interview was automatically out of consideration. The appointments were scheduled for after 9 in the morning, so everyone was forced to park and walk in from the very back of the lot (on some of the hottest days of the year).

Upon arrival, each candidate was led into a small, humid, unventilated supply room to fill out a useless questionnaire consisting of about 400 questions. They got 30 minutes to fill it out, even though it takes at least an hour. These questionnaires were then collected, brought into my office, and disposed of. I made them all wait another 20 minutes while I searched for embarrassing photos of them on the Internet.

Then the applicants got a three minute interview with me. I asked them an offbeat question, like, "Can you tell me about something you've done that you're ashamed of?". Then I spent the rest of the time talking about myself or about how great their job will be here at our company. Once that was over they were sent on their way, and I had the secretary call each of them back for a second interview.

When they show up for the second time they'll be told that I couldn't make it in and that we'll have to reschedule. They will never, ever be called back. Not even when they call in a couple days later to inquire. All the resumes will be shredded. I've decided to give the HR job to my bitchy best friend Bethany so I'll have someone to hang out with at work.

Bethany is the perfect choice because she's got a bunch of friends and family members down in Chesterfield County that she can place in those clerk positions. They really need the work. Most of them haven't been able to hold down a job for more than two weeks at a time! If they're as lazy as I think they'll be then our existing clerks are going to need to step it up, because there's a ton of work to do around here!

Friday, July 10

Festival freakout!

It's that time again. That time of the Summer when I ditch my kids with whatever guy I'm seeing and head out to one of the area's many music festivals! But making the most of a festival isn't always as easy as dropping Ecstasy and letting a gang of high school burnouts have their way with you. Sometimes you need a more comprehensive plan!

Day 1:

If you're like me, you hate hippies, because they're the biggest hypocrite conformists out there. Unfortunately you've got to play the game if you want to move about undetected! So on the first night you should sneak into someone's unlocked car and steal a pair of ratty Birkenstocks, and maybe one of those shapeless hippie girl tops made out of an old pillow case.

It also helps if you stop washing until you reek like cumin and balls. Your toenails should resemble barbecue Frito's, and you should start speaking like a 9th grade dropout. Feel free to wear the same underwear and tampon all weekend. And hairy-ass Venus fly trap armpits are optional, but you've already let yourself go this far, so why not?

Now that you look like shit, you're ready to start making moves. There's a ton of great drugs to be bought, and they don't come cheap! So start stacking cash by selling fake hits of acid and dried non-hallucinogenic mushrooms. Stick with the squares. They don't have a clue, and they've actually got money. Then use your profits to buy everything you can get your hands on, because by tomorrow the drug supplies will become extremely limited!

Day 2:

Things are going to start getting strange. You'll probably be woken up by some obnoxious shithead who's banging on a dumpster with a hammer or something. You've spent all but your last $5 on nitrous balloons, and you've got about a dime bag left in your pocket. It rained hard the night before, so everything is muddy and ruined. The portable toilets are now full-to-bursting with human excrement.

Now's the time to show your displeasure to the folks who planned this stupid festival. So squat and piss right in front of people. If you have to shit, use a stranger's tent. Find a group of college senior dickheads who look more refreshed than anybody because they showed up in an RV. Cut out the RV's electrical system and deflate it's tires.

At night you can have fun by starting a bonfire. Feed the flames by tossing random people's backpacks and sleeping bags in when nobody's looking. Or heat up a marshmallow until it's burnt and flaming and whip it into a dense group of dreadlocked white kids. If things settle down too much you can always rat some people out to the local cops, (who always seem to be prowling around at events like this).

Day 3:

Wake up late, break out your emergency jug of Bowman's vodka, and get drunk. I'm talking "beat your grandmother" drunk. Then spend the morning heckling no-name bands, dancing like a violent asshole, and getting sun poisoning. Pass out on the way to your tent and wake up an hour later lying face down in a muddy tire track, or on a discarded towel that somebody threw up in. Then find your car, take a handful of trucker speed, and drive home like an escaped mental patient.