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1/18/2017 3:12:34 AM
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My life is miserable

I’m almost 20 and haven’t been able to score a better job than a -blam!-ing cook at a local fast food joint. What makes it worse is that I live in a small town so business is pretty limited, and where I work is the only place that’ll hire high school graduates. I’d get the hell out of this town if I could actually drive too, but I’ve failed every damn test I’ve ever taken. I’m socially awkward, even my only other co-worker -blam!-ing hates my guts. I have repressed lust for one of my best friends too; she’s athletic, smart, and a gorgeous southern bell. I love her. You know what it’s like; I’ve been friend zoned real hard. She’s my only best friend, besides this one kid, who I’m pretty sure is only hanging around me because he is mentally challenged. I guess he’s the only one that can tolerate me. And what makes this all worse is that I live in a -blam!-ing pineapple under the sea.

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  • You think you have it bad?? My job is so -blam!-ing 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 opportunities 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 -blam!-ing 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 -blam!-ing dog to work. Every -blam!-ing 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 -blam!-ing day. Anyway, I drive these -blam!-tards around in my van and we solve mysteries and shit.

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