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| The one who thinks it can't be done is usually being passed up by someone doing it |
So true. Wait, did I say 'Abortion?" lolsomg, that should be 'Ambition.' No shit, it's real too, at that place your mother "works". Quote fingers! No not that street corner the other one. Except every time my retarded mind sees it out of the corner of my eye I see 'Abortion.' Then I start giggling. Motivational posters are so fucking gay. Not like SanFranal sex gay or Northern Minnesota woodsman lesbian gay. Like dumb gay. Also pc is gay. Stupid shit like motivational posters wouldn't exist in reality if it wasn't for jobs. Q: why did god invent jobs. A: to keep everyone from having orgies all day and killing each other. And aids.
Are jobs really so bad that they have to resort to subliminally overt brainwashing techniques? Yes.
If you were any good at shit, you'd be boss. Zing! Also, you wouldn't have such a receding hairline and wouldn't have sex with a warmed up can of refried beans every night. Put that in your taco, fucker.
Why can't everyone just tell it like it is all the time. When I feed my son, I don't say, "eat your num-nums" I say "here's some gross pureed vegie shit you won't prolly like but you don't know better 'cause you're a baby." That's a lie. I don't have a son. And baby food is fucking delicious. I once ate nothing but baby food and crack cocaine for a year on a dare. I dared myself. That's a lie too. See? Why this ball flappin', twat clappin' perfunctory dancin' like we both don't know what's going on. Just say it like it is.
Maybe if I would have went to collage I would know how to spell college. But then why would I be so bitter. Fuckin' catch 22.
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| Your boss thinks he's better than you, and he's right. |
If you were any good at shit, you'd be boss. Zing! Also, you wouldn't have such a receding hairline and wouldn't have sex with a warmed up can of refried beans every night. Put that in your taco, fucker.
Why can't everyone just tell it like it is all the time. When I feed my son, I don't say, "eat your num-nums" I say "here's some gross pureed vegie shit you won't prolly like but you don't know better 'cause you're a baby." That's a lie. I don't have a son. And baby food is fucking delicious. I once ate nothing but baby food and crack cocaine for a year on a dare. I dared myself. That's a lie too. See? Why this ball flappin', twat clappin' perfunctory dancin' like we both don't know what's going on. Just say it like it is.
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| Tell your 'rents and/or Uncle Sam thanks for the 60k. The unemployment line is over there, sucker! |
Maybe if I would have went to collage I would know how to spell college. But then why would I be so bitter. Fuckin' catch 22.
You snide, judgemental piece of re-worked treeflesh. Life sucks enough without some pretentious sheet of paper telling me what to do. Or maybe, reverse psykology, I'll tell it to my 'nads
Jobs and posters can both suck my ass. Like I don't have my wife, Buddha, and that little red man sitting on my shoulder to tell me what to do. No, not an Indian midget, you racist/sizist. I think his name is Stan.
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| See above |
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| Or you're going in the fucking trash along with my youth, my hairline, and last night's refried vagina. |
Jobs and posters can both suck my ass. Like I don't have my wife, Buddha, and that little red man sitting on my shoulder to tell me what to do. No, not an Indian midget, you racist/sizist. I think his name is Stan.
