FORMER MAJOR-LOSERS.COM COLUMNIST
“You’ve got to be fuckin kidding me”
Thats what I said when Cheryl started her shit about a job again. We’ve been over this shit, bitch, I ain’t the workin type. But I have to get some parts for the fuckin Camaro, and she just got her hours cut. She said she stopped “giving the boss what he wanted”, whatever that means. I guess she means her dedication and hard work. . The bitch has been slippin, and getting pretty lax lately, even around the house. I was lookin in the fridge the other day, and I found a bowl of rice, and was gonna eat it. The rice started movin, man, it was fuckin maggots. I guess I have to start smackin her ass around some more, put her back in check.
So anyways, I sets out to find me a job. Nothin big, just somethin to shut her stupid ass up. I headed over to Intel man, to apply for their shit. I figure fuck, bro, I am in internet columnist, and they do internet shit there. I strolled in. Some wannabee cop motherfucker stopped me at the door. “Do you have a badge, sir?” He asked..
“No, but you do, its plastic motherfucker” I says back to him. “I am a security officer” he says back. Thats some stupid shit man. Bad enough being a cop, better yet a fuckin fake one. Fuckin stupid job, man. “I am lookin for a job bro” I tells him. “You want to work security?” He asks me. “Fuck dude, what a waste of my talents, man, the fucking national guard couldn’t get in here if I was workin here bro”. He kind of snickered. “I need computer shit dude, internet, have you ever heard of that?” I asks him. He laughed a little bit, and told me to go online. I ain’t got no computer, you fucking smart ass. I showed him what the fuck was up. I took his flashlight from his belt, and cracked his fucking skull open with it. As he laid there bleeding, he learned a harsh lesson. The double M neverr fucks around.
I decided to get the fuck out of there before the real pigs showed up. I can’t fuck around like that. I hopped in the dot, and cruised out, all cool like. I wanted to “blend in” so I could make a clean escape. Shit ain’t easy with all these snitches around. About a mile down the road, ol’ dotty started to sputter. Fuck man, I ain’t got no gas. Lazy bitch doesnt know how to check the fuckin gas. The gas guage is broke, so I have a stick that I put in the hole, to see how much we have in it. Too much work for that lazy cunt. So I got on my chevro-legs and got to walkin. I came up to the Chevron, and saw some dude with long hair, so I knew he’d be cool. “Hey bro, could I borrow a gas can, I fuckin ran out up the road” I asked. “Fuck, dude, I could get fired” he said. I mumbled to him a little bit “there’s some weed in it for you man” I said. He stole one out the back of the store. I put $1.87 in the can, and took off.
It was just then I had a revalation. Every time that happens, I end up doin something that gets me put in jail, but not this time man. I could work at the gas station. I pulled up and talked with the boss a bit. He didn’t have long hair, so I didn’t really trust him. “Can you pass a urinalysis?” He asked. “a what?” I asked. What do I look like, a fuckin teacher, dude? “A piss test” he said. “Well, uh, yeah man” I said. “Ok, here’s your paperwork” he says, and I was on my way. I went back to the trailer court and paid some kid 5 bucks to piss in a ziploc bag for me. I headed over, and did my shit. This gettin a job shit is easy, bro.
My boss is kind of a pussy, he acts like a teacher. I knew I was going to have to kick his fuckin ass to get anywhere in this shit. The first thing he wanted me to do was put on a white shirt and grey slacks. What the fuck do I look like, a fuckin lawyer? I did it, but at 6 o clock, when he left, I put on some blue jeans and an iron maiden shirt. Fuck that guy and his fuckin dress code. I worked the register for a while, in the little store part, and pumped some gas. I told the customers about my camaro, especially if they were driving pussy shit like some mustang, or chrysler, or something. Yeah dude, your car looks all cool, but its slow as shit. This one punk motherfucker in a 5.0 asked me what I drove here. I showed him the datsun, and he started laughin. I grabbed his punk ass hair, and started pumping unleaded into his fuckin cake hole. I beat him in the head with the gas nozzle, and he was choking, and spitting and stuff. “You are lucky I don’t light a match bitch, get the fuck out of here” I says to him. He sped off.
Dude, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with people. By now, you know they fucked around. I was at the cash register, ringing out pussies, when this dude with short hair starts fucking with me. A punk teenager, who needed his ass beat. He was making fun of me, and talking shit, so I stuck his fuckin hand on the hot dog cooker thing. “Does that burn bitch? How about I burn your fuckin mouth” and I smashed his face on it. He didn’t want to play then. Also, I took this other kid and covered his fucking face with the icee shit from the machine. He said the shit was “warm”. Not so warm when you are covered in it, eh bitch boy? I stuffed some ice cubes in his mouth too. Sure enough, the next day, the boss startin bitchin at me.
“Micheal, you are defiant of authority” He says to me. “Tell me something I don’t know, fucker” i says to him. I was already in a bad mood, because I ate a whole case of slim jims yesterday and I had the shits. It was explosive diarrea too, It was like someone stuck an air hose in my mouth, and started spraying shit out of my ass man. Bad stuff. I wasn’t in the mood to fuck around. I got up, whipped it out, and pissed all over his fuckin desk. Thats what you get for talkin shit on me, man. “Take this fuckin work and stick it up your punk pussy ass dude” I yelled. I pulled him out of his chair and threw him through his window, out into the parkin lot.
He took off running like a bitch. I climbed out, and ran out to some of the customers, and kicked some of their asses too. Why not? I shouldn’t let them fuckin slip either. But I couldn’t get all of them. I had to take off, before the cops got there to fuck with me. As usual.
They always do.
Till next time,
Mike.
Mike Mulletino is a former Columnist for Major-losers.com. He now lives in Forest Grove, Oregon, in the Rose Grove Trailer Park.. He can be reached by e-mail. He cannot be reached by phone, that shit’s been disconnected.
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