Friday, February 11, 2005

don't tell me shoes

masturbating bitterly, he grabs a handfull of buillion cubes to wash away the eggplants of his soul.

knock knock....
"retarius? hey, it's me, the green fairy, open the fuck up and let me in."
"glad you could make it, havnt seen you in a while, COME ON IN!"

that's right, i am drunk on the absinthe, again. been a while, but here i am. big deal.

i think a great idea for a service that is greatly needed would be the DCR, the "department of carthartic representatives." here is how it works. it is a small office of a bunch of guys, on the road all week long, they visit various corporations and businesses, set up a desk in a small office, and allow workers to come in and yell and scream and "vent" as if they are talking to the incompetent fucktard bosses who are so far removed from reality, the light from reality would take years to reach them. so, let's say your boss gives you the most worthless advice, which is completely idiotic, and you must comply with his nonsensical wishes. you contact the DCR and give them the name of the MENSA candidate you want to poke in the eyes, and they give you a date. on that date, you enter their "office" and they are sitting there, with the name of your evil nemisis on the nameplate on the desk. you go off like vesuvius went off on pompei, you rant, rage against the machine, say all you want, mention illegal sexual activity between his mother and various marsupials, whatever you need to get out. this guy takes it, perhaps offers weak resistance at first, to give you some kind of feeling of fight, and when you are done, you feel better and leave, to continue with your productive day. he changes the name on the nameplate and recives the next customer, and the serive goes on for those who need it, until everyone is done. the DCR packs up and moves on to his next call.

this service will be offered to any business, allowing the workers to tell their "bosses" how they feel without fear of unfair reprecussions, the bosses fragile egos are not threatened, the workers, who are the only ones who really know what's going on, feel vindicated, and everyone is happy.

i think it will work. if i wern't all fucked up i could probably explain it better. now it is time to pass out, possibly waking up in a puddle of my own sick.

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