Shitheads Anonymous

I just wanted everybody to be able to share the joy I felt at reading about this gentleman's last job. Here is an excerpt direct from the resume (note that not only the actual description of the position, but also the impeccable grammar and spelling make it all worthwhile):


EXPERIENCE
Jun 2006 to Nov 2006
CLERK/CO-MANAGER/CUSTODIAN/BOUNCER Bargain Sales (adult bookstore), latrobe, PA
i had to stock, clean, eject rowdy patrons, clerk, kep the dancers happy, and finally sale sex toys

Daisy strikes again...

Picture this: I'm standing in my room, bending over (YEAH!) to get something out of the bottom drawer of my dresser. My dad is downstairs letting the dogs outside. Suddenly I hear what sounds like a herd of elephants galloping down the hallway toward my room. Daisy tears through the door, takes a flying leap onto my bed, runs to the end against the wall, turn around, and takes another flying leap off the bed and runs out the door. I yell, "Daisy, what the HELL are you doing?!" as she bounds down the hallway back toward the living room. In the aftermath of this attack, I steal a glance at the clean, light purple sheets I just put on my bed the day before yesterday. Much to my dismay, I discover muddy fucking paw prints all over them. Son of a bitch! Will her reign of terror never end? At least she didn't destroy another pair of my underwear...I'm guarding them with my life. Don't let her little sad, adorable face as she sits quietly with my dad in that picture fool you. She is Daisy the Destroyer!

WHY?!

Why do dogs find it absolutely necessary to eat (dirty) underwear?! Why are they drawn to disgusting things that smell like ass? Two more pairs of my underwear have been sacrificed to Daisy's teeth today. Luckily, I was feeling down so I treated myself to 4 more pairs that I like better from Victoria's Secret Semi-Annual Sale (which is going on ONLY online right now, so I wanted to get while the gettin' was good). However, this will only increase my number of underwear by two, rather than four as I had originally planned. Thanks, Daisy. The thing that makes me the most angry is that I had them ready to go in the washer...they hadn't been strewn about my room. They were in the hamper up until today, when I took them out so I could do the laundry. Big mistake. Daisy has an underwear monitor that is set to "Seek and Destroy" any time underwear are within her reach. I am not pleased.

I'm IN CT...

And Jason signed me in and is typing this post for me because I am *so* freakin' lazy I can't do it myself. Anyway, ummm, I just got finished talking to Jason's aunt and her "friend" (we'll leave at that for now) who are cool. Mmmm, my cleavage is 'UGE. (We're talking Donald Trump hair 'UGE. I'm not saying my boobs are ugly like Donald Trump's hair, just that they are 'UGE... Like Donald Trump's hair.) Jason's belly is making noise, he'll probably have to take a shit soon. (Ed. Note: Yes, probably... You're sick.) Jason's ears smell good, but his face puts a rash on my face. (Ed. Note: WTF??? Come on, your friends don't wanna hear this shit. They wanna hear about Doogie Howser taking it in the butt.)

I don't have anything else to say. (Ed. Note: To everyone who read this blog, yes all 4 of you. I'm trying to get her to blog more but she's being retarded. Work with me people. We all know this sucks.)