Jobs Are Gay
Do you know where I write my incredibly witty sometimes seizure inducing updates? Work, that’s where. Why, because I work 10pm to 6am, and regardless what some people might say (no, I have no idea who would say it), it is possibly the slowest fucking 8 hours I may have ever experienced. Naturally, I wouldn’t actually work and make the time go by faster, instead, I indulge in my secret shame, writing. I actually do enjoy writing stuff for this site (unlike those lazy bastards Yogurtman and Triple Life, who see it as some what of a chore, BASTARDS) but free time is hard to come by, so why not do it while I’m on the clock? Take that ARCO Canada. I’m writing this on a Sunday, the slowest fucking night of the week, so instead of some queer review of Pro Wrestling (or something like that) I’ll take you through a night with me. Damn, why the hell did I think a year off from school would be a good thing? I should’ve went to college first. It ends up with me doing shit like this.
9:56 pm: I arrive at work. I stand around while the inept bunglers that are on day shift attempt simple math while counting the money. Damn
inbreds. After they leave, I quickly change the radio station from the faggy “popular” bands of the day, to a more pleasing sound. I settle in for a long winters night.
10:00pm : My first customer arrives. Of course, he purchases a pack of cigarettes. Even more surprising, it’s Benson and Hedges Gold. Seeing as I don’t want to cause conflict, I wait for the guy to leave before I laugh, seeing as only women and frail china men smoke Benson and Hedges.
This picture has nothing to do with the feature, but Bubble Bobble did teach me the true magic of life, love, friendship, and happiness.
10:59pm : A customer that I noted in my Punchout!! feature, a fat slob comes in and buys a questionable magazine and corn chips. Reminds me of the verse in the Kids in the Hall classic song ‘Terriers’, that talks about eating cornchips and masturbating. I ponder if I could do that exact thing in the backroom, but go back to finishing the said
Punchout!! feature.
12:00am : A fucking hour goes by without anyone coming in. Oddly, it turns out to be a guy I went to High School with, but dropped out. I assumed he died of an overdose, but was proven wrong. After a few minutes, he bought a fruity V8 drink, and left. After a comedic comment that included the word fruity, I went back to the arduous task of sitting and staring.
12:16am: One of the several security guards that come in during the night and mooch drinks enters the establishment. It always drives me a little more to the edge of rage when they do, I hate small talk. I feign reading the Maxim that I’ve read 20 times already, that usually disperses them post haste. As usual, it does. Special.
12:34am: I buy a cream soda. It was delightful.
12:55am: Another security guard comes in and grabs the very newspaper I was planning on reading. Urge to kill rises another level.
1:00am: After neglecting it for 2 hours, I do the hourly security call. Basically I call the other 11 24 hour Arco’s to see if they got robbed or stabbed. Of course that never happens, but I wish it would so it could liven up my night. They’re supposed to respond with the gay CB radio phrase 10-4. Unfortunately, I get responses like “Everything is peachy”, or “It’s all good.” God really must be dead.
1:09am: I read one of the new warning labels that they put on the cigarettes. In large bold letters, it says ‘Cigarettes Make You Impotent’ and there is a picture of a smoke drooping like a limp penis. An actual picture of a limp penis would be more effective, but a picture like that could be effective for any point.
1:13am : Some guy comes in, and I immediately note the fact that he looks gay with a goatee. He buys a pack of gum and a Pepsi, then pays with a 50. Prick.
1:19am : I buy a McSweeny’s (I get the feeling I’m giving these companies free advertising, they should be sponsoring me, fuckers) Pepperoni stick. According to the slogan, it’s as good as gold. Whatever happened to truth in advertising? Also, I don’t think gold includes dextrose, glutamate, and
erythobate.
1:47am: God hates me, as I do 3 propane fills in a row. Of course, one person is always a cheap whore that only has 5 bucks. The Muslim taxi driver gave me a tip though. Praise thee Mohammed.
2:08am : Never buy a sandwich that’s one day from expiring. Ever.
2:33am : Pepperoni and expired egg sandwiches are an ungodly combination.
3:10am : You know when people like to start coming in. When you’re walking to the bathroom and you just MOPPED THE FUCKING FLOOR. That’s when.
3:42am : If you unscrew the handle of a window wiper, it makes a fine blunt object. Remember that the next time you wish to assault somebody.
3:50am : If it wasn’t for the radio, I would kill myself.
Take me to eternal rest, or play Classical Gas. That song rulz.
4:13am: Gay.
4:55am: Remember in Resident Evil where you read the notes of a guy affected with the disease that turns you into a zombie? That’s what those last few entries reminds me of.
5:16am : Gas dips. I stick an extremely large stick into a hole, and measure the level of gas. I will not use a cheap sex joke here.
5:52am : Kill...me...
6:01am : PRAISE JESUS, I’M GETTING THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. Until next week that is...
Learn from my example dear reader, do not work. Go on welfare, anything, sell drugs, run guns, live in a sewer, anything is preferable. I grow weary, long live sloth.
-Seru40
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