Here Is A Dare. Read It With A Straight Face.

Image by dno1967 via Flickr

My mum practically kicked my ass out of the house before I even hit 13, and I never even met my dad. My only friend till I was 10 was the faggot prick next door who was always beating the shit out of me and telling me I wasn’t worth shit. Its not even like I had a choice, the town fucking had something like 9 people living in it, I shit you not. My entire adolescence was just moving around from place trying to get along with people who didn’t even want me. You think that’s the worst? My only friend was an Asian guy in his thirties or something, who only kept me around because he thought I could help him get laid. The only perk was that I also got to hang around with this cute ginger chick, she was flat as a pancake sure, but damn she was a total nymph. She must have been a sadist or something cause she always took pleasure in hitting me and telling me how she loved to get wet. But dear god the bane of my existence was this adult couple that I could NOT seem to avoid. You know these types of couples that are absolutely sickening, like they wear matching outfits and finish each other’s sentences? Yeah they were fucking creepers, and they had a cat, which was at least twice as annoying as they were, I swear this thing would never shut the fuck up. Like I said I ended up moving from town to town getting into fights with other kids my age, even adults from time to time. The only thing that kept me going was my dream to become a pokemon master.

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My job is so fucking unbelievable. I’ll try to sum it up by first telling you about the folks I work with:

First, there is this supermodel wanna-be chick. Yeah, okay, she is pretty hot, but damn is she completely useless. The girl is constantly fixing her hair or putting on makeup. She is extremely self-centered and has never once considered the needs or wants of anyone but herself. She is as dumb as a box of rocks, and I still find it surprising that she has enough brain power to continue to breathe.

The next chick is completely the opposite. She might even be one of the smartest people on the planet. Her career oppertunities are endless, and yet she is here with us. She is a zero on a scale of 1 to 10. I’m not sure she even showers, much less shaves her “womanly” parts. I think she might be a lesbian, because every time we drive by the hardware store, she moans like a cat in heat.

But the jewel of the crowd has got to be the fucking stoner. And this guy is more than just your average pothead. In fact, he is baked before he comes to work, during work, and I’m sure after work. He probably hasn’t been sober anytime in the last ten years, and he’s only 22. He dresses like a beatnik throwback from the 1960’s, and to make things worse, he brings his big fucking dog to work. Every fucking day I have to look at this huge Great Dane walk around half-stoned from the second-hand smoke. Hell, sometimes I even think it’s trying to talk with its constant bellowing. Also, both of them are constantly hungry, requiring multiple stops to McDonalds and Burger King, every single fucking day.

Anyway, I drive these fucktards around in my van and we solve mysteries and shit.