Odd Job Mercenary

I have an announcement to make.  This may come as a shock to some of you.  But I'm going to be running for president.  Mr Obama has been having some knee troubles lately, and wanted me to stand in for his 5k.  It's good that he only wanted me to stand in, as I've also been having knee troubles, and wasn't sure if I was necessarily going run very well.  But standing in, I can stand in anywhere.

You may wonder why someone with knee troubles would agree to run a race for the President of his country.  The answer to that is: if you were called by the White House and asked to do something for the president, you'd have to be on hutzpah fueled crutch using kind of excuse maker. Which I am not!

This isn't to gloat, or make you feel inadequate about the favors you're asked to do on a daily basis.  This is just to let you know, if you're looking for a high caliber replacement for any event, ask me!

In the past I've also done:
-Clowns for children's birthday parties
-Wine server at a local theater event
-Romancing other men's wives((I usually am willing to do this work pro-bono, if you know what I mean.  But if you'd prefer, I could do it without you even requesting or finding out at all.  The latter is often preferred, and I'll, discreetly of course, send the bill for my work under the pen name of "Time Warner Cable."))

And that's just a list!  I can surely help out in a variety of other situations, but won't know what until you ask!  So please, call today.  If you get an answering machine when you call, congratulations you're the 100th caller! And if you're offer is one that I can't refuse, I won't!

Thank You For Your Continued Support

Dear faculty and staff of the university I attended.  This week ONLY if you send me $5 I'll go ahead and not send you the "as a center for higher education you really screwed me" card.  The quantity of those exemptions is limited, so first come first serve basis.  Any other week I'll still take your fiver, but you'll get absolutely no recognition from me.

Does $5 make a difference?  YES!

• I know as a private college you make a lot of money and constantly remain profitable.  So even just $5 you take from that to help me eat food while on the job hunt will help.  I realize usually you beg alumnus for money, because you have their email addresses and why not?  But this time, think of doing something that will help us.  After all we don't want to appear entirely ridiculously greedy and offensive, right?
• The more of you who give, in any amount, the more likely it is that I can continue to eat, and maybe one day pursue a career which is the only reason I went to you in the first place.  Minimum wage employment, while wholly satisfying, makes your degree less valuable per each alumni who has both.
• Donor giving helps to provide me with a better chance to actually have spare time in which to apply and develop my skills.  Your gift today will help me stay on trajectory to not having wasted thousands and thousands of dollars!

Please, show support in your broke alumni, and make your gift today!  

ps:  If you see it in your hearts, don't ask us for money, you have tuition and housing fees for that.  I know, I'd like it if random people I used to know just sent me money, but I generally don't have the hutzpah or brash sense of righteousness to beg!  By that, I mean they just never respond.

A Dirty Poem((Clean Version))

Some people I have shared this with are taken aback at what innuendos I paint for them.  I want you to remember this is merely a poem about animals.  It's title, Girl of your Dreams, is just a joke.  These are obviously animal traits, and not traits any girl would possess.  Why anyone would even assume that the girl of my dreams would actually have a tail is beyond me.

Without further ado:

Girl of your Dreams

Some people say you've got no mate

She's not real or existing much

Not destined, no sir, there's no fate

You won't even get a touch.

"She's a mythical creature" this you see

One part, her body, is a bird

The other part I do decree

Her head, however, still a bird

Throw off your silly confusion

They're different birds of course

The body of a raven fusion

With a chicken's head.((natural, unforced))

Similar to a giraffe, necking tons

She's also got horns and hooves you know?

And cares only for having some funs!

((horns that, after necking, blow!))

She has a tail, of which some I get

Some I just don't understand

Three somes for instance, I do fret

That must be from a foreign land!

And like a monkey-She's adept

Doing jobs with her feet

Your contentment will be kept

Even her hand jobs are hard to beat

Off in the woods, often as you may

You'll search and think, "Ummm."

Then you'll see her! Across a short way

You yell "By me you should come!"

Now everyone's happy as an oyster

With a new string of pearls all around

In this dream now you're her Mr!

You've won, it's all yours, you are crowned!

I'm not sure why anyone would suspect that this poem is anything more than a nonsense menagerie.  But, to each over analyzing weirdo his own.

Finances

With tax time coming up a lot of us our turning our piercing gaze to our financial situation.  There to see that we spend an average of $210 dollars a year on coffee.  That's the least of our ridiculous expenses.  Don't.  I mean don't. Inspect your receipt history from Amazon.  You throw those away/delete them?  Perfect.

Also if you can avoid it, ignore the numbers next to amount paid in your student loan/mortgage.((If you rent an apartment you're already good at pretending in regards to finances.  So just carry on.))  Also try to pretend like the amount left to pay won't take another nine/eternal years.  While you're on this pretending streak, when your W-2s come in, throw them out!  Immediately.  Seeing such a number while pretending that you're living at a comfortable level will ruin your fantasies.

I'm not saying tax time is a depressing dose of reality smacking its lips after dining on your emaciated corpse kind of time.  But that's because I have panache and tact, and a want of saving you from such imagery.  ((It's also burping and asking the waiter for seconds and has plenty of room for dessert.  Reality is not particularly friendly to this waiter either!  Very demanding!))  Just remember life won't always be like this.  One day you'll be rolling in so much money that you won't know what to do with it all.  Probably you'll have started stuffing some of it in a bag by the time the cops show up.  At least that's what my astrological sign points to.

Lonely Nights

Here's a joke to open with: what's the difference between a drunk and your dead grandfather?  I feel bad when I punch a drunk.  

Instead of a funeral I imagine a scenario where the deceased's remaining relatives can have a sort of celebrity death match the corpse.  The priest will want a good clean fight, so get it on!  Just an activity to get out residual anger from being left alone in a cold world without the light and guidance from the dead friend or family member.

Morticians will also have  a great deal more exciting job.  They will follow your will and plant grenades, or spike traps to pop out of your body at just the right time.  They'll also be in charge of taking any bets and running the funeral craps games that are bound to break out.

This isn't to disrespect the dead, rather exalt them as a force of nature.  They will teach the young to truly never give in.  No matter the torture methods, the foot crushing or finger breaking, the dead will not do anything you beg of them.  Maybe a voice recorder will say things like, "Oh I sure will pay that gambling debt Pete.  Hahahahha.  No Mabel, I never had an affair, wink wink nudge nudge.  Life insurance is boring, Corvettes are exciting!" when punched just right.  

Extreme funerals are coming to a town near you, whether you like it or not.  So if you've got any choice words for a dying relative, bottle them up and wait for ceremony.

Here's a joke to close with: I drank what?((Socrates' favorite!)) 

Horror Story

I'm about to share with you a story and I want you to be prepared.  For ghastly things will occur.  Things barely imaginable.  At one point, a man and myself exchange words that are not particularly friendly.  Not even in a backhanded compliment sort of way.

I recently went on a cruise with the girl of my dreams.  Some people say that "the girl of your dreams" is a mythical creature.  They're right, the one from my dreams has the body of a bird and the head of a chicken.  I spent every night with her.  Her name is Estelle, I think because she's a stellar girl.  But that's not the horrific part.

During one of our shore leaves we were inspecting a towering oak tree.  Quite large.  I didn't even really need my magnifying glass.  I kept it handy though, just in case.  At this point, and I use the term loosely, a gentleman approached.  He was speaking with some low life and I overheard, "...like a cock sucking incubus from hell."  Not being one to let things go I continued to hold onto my magnifying glass.  While holding on I retorted, "Your mother is like a cock sucking incubus from hell, and the rooster denizens of the underworld really appreciate her!"

That's not even everything that went wrong.  Later, on that same trip, I ran into the same man.  We exchanged angry glances and Pokemon cards.  Afterwards I realized he ripped me off, with only two holigraphic Blastoises for one non-holigraphic Charizard.  Infuriated I called and complained to the life guards, the coast guards, even the right guard extreme.  Not one of them did anything to comfort me or protect me from this obviously hostile man.

I spent the rest of my trip complaining and writing bad reviews of the cruise line all over the place.  Most notably the bathroom wall.  "If you're NOT looking for a good time, call this cruise ship."  When I got home I got a letter from the company that asked me never to travel with their company again.  As if!  I can't believe that after all that they treated me so poorly.  You can expect I won't be traveling with them again, they're the absolute worst.  One day there wasn't even ketchup for our hamburgers.  Not even that my magnifying glass could find.  Luckily I don't drop things, ever.

After Life

One Peter McGabriel died under Unusual Circumstances.((I have done no research into how other Peter McGabriels may have ended their existence.))  Unusual Circumstances was a bar that had opened in early 1968 offering a, "Kick in the keister for any kicked out meester."  UC also offered a warm cozy place to hang out and be yourself.  If you were a murderer.  Peter McGabriel died in the usual way a police officer would die in such an establishment.   He was crushed to death by a box of oranges he was helping to move out of the basement.  It turns out gravity was a much bigger help for the movement of the box, and McGabriel was not particularly suited at the time for dodging out of the way.  Peter McGabriel was not a police officer, but Lt. Officer Hank Medinite was.  He was standing next to McGabriel when the accident occured.

Some people say, "How are you Jane?" to their wife, Jane.  Those people may say, "How are you Jane?" to someone who is not their wife, if her name was Jane.  Those same people, could potentially, utter that same phrase to someone who didn't even know of a Jane.  I just warn you of that before I let you know this next bit.

Some people say Peter's ghost still haunts Unusual Circumstances to this day.  ((Note, is being written on 01/13/12, no person has made a claim about a future day.))  They say every night at 9:04pm they can hear his last words echoing through the building.  "Hey, what's this on the ground?"  They then tell Jim, an old friend of Peter, to stop being such a douchenozzle and yelling that through the hallways.  Jim states that he doesn't do it on purpose and Peter is possessing him, to warn everyone of impending doom.

It turns out Jim was correct.  A large drum of oil had spilled out over the floor, and when it caught fire everyone burned to death under Unusual Circumstances.  Still no one knows if Jim was possessed or just coincidentally correct.  Peter McGabriel will be missed.  If anyone tries to shoot him that is.  No one really liked Peter as he was the only bigger twit in town than Jim.  There will be zero grieving done at his funeral, being held at the nearby cemetery, Can Sir Bring 'Em In.