So, with today being Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I felt that it would only be right if I didn’t go to work. Oh, you racist prick, not because it’s a “black holiday” and black people don’t work. Well, that’s part of the reason, I mean, fuck, they hate people to think that, but come on, your only holiday of the year was made so you didn’t have to work. Wait, do they actually work? That’s not nice. I’m sorry, I must be falling into this racist propaganda trap. They work, who else is going to be there to clean the shit off the wall of Wal-Mart’s bathroom when I give it a nice coat of Mahogany mud. Nope, nevermind, that’ll be a Mexican. Wait, wrong again, Mexicans don’t work at Wal-Mart, unless it’s a retarded Mexican. Do they exist? I mean, I guess they are from the south, so there must be some in-breeding there. …What? Oh, yea, wrong south. Hmmm… Well, Wal-Marts do exist in el May-he-co, so I guess I could travel down there to see if there really are retarded Mexicans, or if they are just like Unicorns, Zombies and Bigfoot, very hard to find. Did you think I was going to say mythical creatures? If you did you are just ignint! Wait, just because its MLK day doesn’t mean I have to speak their broken “Anglesh” too, but it’s oh so much fun! Try it out sometime, and tell me you don’t feel smarter that you don’t actually talk like that as per your vernacularity. Or you could sounds just as stupid and use sayings that doesn’t actually mean what you think they does.
While you’re sleeping like a baby, and you could care less about it, why don’t you go head over heels (stand up?), go have your cake and eat it too, and don’t even bother giving me a flying fuck or a rat’s ass. Really… really? Go to hell, in a hand basket, jerk-off.
I don’t remember seeing retards high on the top exports of the United States, and now that there’s a Wally World on every corner, well, we might even need to start importing them soon! And you may be thinking to yourself that I’ve hit an all-time-low picking on the mentally challenged. “Rain Man was a ruh-tard and he practically bankrupted a casino.” And, well, I don’t actually have anything wrong with them, not that anyone actually should, because that’s like hating an Australian rugby player in a wheel chair! “Oi, wood ja give us a poosh mait?” What? Not sure. So yea, today I had no desire to go to work at all. Not only was it “Do as the race of the person whose day it is does” day, but I seemed to have quite the hangover. Actually, I was still drunk when I got to work, and I stopped drinking around 7:30 last night, passed out by 8:45, missed Ax Men, pretty pissed about that, and woke up drunk as a skunk at 6 in the flipping morning. Who does that? Well, I guess it really doesn’t matter though, because I won and the keg lost. In the past few days, my facebook status updates have had to do with me, a keg, and a hangover, and well, I think that rock, paper, scissor is a little out-dated and needs to be revamped a little bit. “Scott, Keg, Hangover, Shoot!” It just has a certain ring of awesomeness to it. So here’s how it’ll go:
Scott beats Keg.
Hangover beats Scott.
Keg beats Hangover.
I think that works out to actually working. And it makes a lot more sense than that other stupid game I replaced it with. I mean, come on, paper beats rock? Maybe a gay rock! Pretty sure rock goes “Smash!” and beats anything, except maybe a jackhammer, which is not part of the game might I add. I’m going to see how many 5 year olds I can get to play this game. (I hope you’re listening Anheuser-Busch. I could use some extra funds, just think of all the children that will grow up to be alcoholics because of a kiddy game. And yes, we can switch it to “Scott, Bud Light Keg, Hangover, Shoot!” even though it may not have the same ring, I’ll accept it, for the right price.) So, going to work with a drunkover is not a fun thing. On the ride in, I noticed there were absolutely zero cars on the road, which I thought to be slightly weird, but I dismissed it, because I was still slightly very intoxicated and was only making sure I didn’t yomit.
On a lighter note, hopefully not going to insult any other, uh, stuff-thing-people-ma-jiggers, I’m going to talk on the holiday season, being that it is finally over (thank god!). Everyone’s favorite holiday of the year, sorry Jews, is Christmas. Well, you can go fuck yourself with that shit because I despise it. Not only Christmas, the whole “fakeness” involved with the holiday season, the shitty food, and being forced to give people shitty gifts to get shittier gifts in return. Save your 10$ and I’ll save my 20, and we can buy ourselves something we actually want. Thanks. Normally people pack on the pounds during the holiday season, and blame it on all the food, cookies, and desserts associated with it. On top of that, people spend way too much money on gifts they can’t really afford, but hey, that’s why there are credit cards right? And wow, since our credit cards aren’t entirely maxed out, and we’ve packed on “a couple extra pounds,” why don’t we get an expensive gym membership that we will use for maybe a week. Or, there’s something else I heard of. Bulimia, possibly anorexia., both viable options. I opt for anorexia, partially due to the fact I hate pretty much all foods that aren’t Taco Bell, and when for about a month straight there are “Holiday dinners” with family members that you don’t even want to see anyway, eating their leftover food that wasn’t good enough to be eaten the first time anyway, and they are forcing their pig feed on you. And you have to pretend to like it, and shovel down at least 2 plate fulls. Fuck that. I let people know straight up I don’t like food, and well, I don’t eat for about a month straight. Greatest diet invention ever. While everyone else is getting fatter, I’m getting skinnier, so I look double skinnier. But, yea, the holidays, I guess, were made with good intentions, but have turned out to be oh so shitty. And Christmas is by far the worst of all. Every year, I never get shit, because I usually buy something when I want it. I know, it’s my own fault, but you know what, fuck off piss face! So while everyone is opening up their awesome gifts, I get a pair of underwear and a package of 3 pairs of socks. Hoo-fuckin-ray! So finally, this year, I got fed up with all the bullshit, so I decided I was going to go to the top of the complaint department for the holiday season, a letter to Santa Claus. No, I didn’t send it before Christmas, because, well, I’m not going to ask Santa for a blow-up sex doll and butt lube. Gross. So, here’s my letter to Santa, you’ll probably see it before he does.
Dear Santa,
Fuck you.
Love,
S D0T M33ZY
Initially I was satisfied with that, but I decided Jolly Ole Saint Nick deserved a little more explanation than just that. Here’s my second attempt.
Dear Santa.
Fuck you a lot.
Love,
S D0T M33ZY
Haha, just kidding. Well, kind of. That wasn’t my final draft, still a little more editing to do.
Dear Santa,
Fuck you a really lot! Apparently you need to get your eyes checked. If your eyes were properly functioning, you would have seen that I was on your “Good List.” I don’t see the humor in what I got this Christmas, fuck, holiday season. Being that my birthday is technically part of the holiday season, could you please tell the Birthday Present Fairy that I’m still waiting on my fucking birthday presents, that fucking ginormous bag of douche. So I guess it’s not all your fault I’m taking this out on you, but you still fucked me pretty bad too. I mean, you got me a 500 GB hard drive for my PS3. That’s cool I guess. Maybe if you lost a little weight and finally realized you need to ditch your elves and get Mexicans, you would have been able to actually put the hard drive in a PS3 for me and given it to me as a package. (I know what you’re thinking, I don’t swing that way, unless it will help my chances for next Christmas ;-) ) So yea, 80$ so far, not like I’m counting. Next up, Hangover on Blu-Ray. Sweet, but not really cool. Christmas is all about going big or going home, and being that the Bday Present Fairy forgot about me, I figured you guys made some deal that I would get something awesome, and your elves would build it for me. Are there Mexican elves? You should probably look into that. So I’m sitting there, my dad is passing out the presents you left for our family, and I get nothing else. So I’m pretty pissed, and I feel that my parents are just hiding that big present you left me. Nope, nothing. My aunts bring me the presents you left for me at their house, and I thought that is where my big score would be located. No, nothing. They brought me the Hobo gloves and scarf you left at their house. I don’t know what I did to deserve that, and I don’t find it funny. Are you hinting that is where my future lies? With hobo gloves and a scarf? Why didn’t you throw in a 55 gallon drum complete with fire wood and newspapers. Maybe a shopping cart with a starter set of cans in it too? So, don’t make me call up the Tooth Fairy (who apparently has hit rock bottom, yea, wtf Duane?) and have him kick your ass. That is if he still remembers how to layeth the smacketh down. Maybe, you know what, being that I always get dicked on Christmas, instead of worrying about getting me anything, just give the Rock his balls back and stop having him embarrass himself in retarded kiddy movies. I mean, last year I got a PS3 which was sweet, but you made me wait until the end of February to get it so you didn’t spoil it for my brother. Come on! I only wanted it since it came out, I’m not even sure he knew that he wanted it… Dick move Claus, dick move. Hopefully by this Christmas you get your eyes checked, and I’ve made this font size 7 just so you would hopefully notice it, unless you have outsourced your letter reading to India already, and will realize that I have not been naughty, but rather nice, and I will actually get something cool.
Thanks in Advance,
S D0T M33ZY
That’s all I got today kiddies. Until next time!
S(dot)cott M(eezy)iller