Archive | June, 2014

Job Search Diary: Partners in Career Excellence

26 Jun
image stolen from jkentstaffing.com

image stolen from jkentstaffing.com

I can’t fucking do it anymore. Used to sit with craigslist in one tab, OKCupid in another. Apply for jobs, apply for pussy. It worked ’cause it was half fun. Now it’s just the jobs. Secretarial shit. Every good one is fake; they’re recruiting agencies. They call and you go in in your bad suit and take a test. How fast can you type. How good are you at Powerpoint. Anyone who uses Powerpoint should be killed. Meet a gray woman who tells you tone down your resume. Take off the executive stuff. Places don’t hire if they think you want a future.

Get to the fucking robots already. There is no job in the world now that is useful. Every place is selling fake shit that people don’t need. Or they’re a fake middleman who leeches off some other company that also does nothing. Finance. Law. Insurance. There is one real industry: protect and expand rich people’s inherited money. The rest, parasites on parasites.

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Protected: Diary: Throw out the Script

21 Jun

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Ass Part 4

20 Jun
image stolen from ballparkguys.com

image stolen from ballparkguys.com

I called 911 because I was in the bath and my legs started spasming. You could see muscle pulsing like a snake moving under the skin. First calves. Then thighs. Then my legs locked up and my belly started to go. My foot stuck twisted like the end of a chicken wing. It hurt. What if it went all the way up. Would my face just go in the water. Would I die naked with my hot bath ball sac spread over my thighs like a steamed tortilla.

While my arms still worked I hoisted myself up by the soap holder. My fucking thumb was twitching and the phone was wet. Many tries to get the passcode. When there’s an emergency, you forget you can just hit “emergency.” Then– no, you dumb fucker, I am not calling 921. Jesus Christ. That voice never goes away. The one that tells you of course it would be like this. Your ass goes out and it spreads and you die naked because your retarded thumb can’t work the phone. You went to the doctor and everything. They told you it was hemorrhoids. You knew it was an anorectal abscess. Septic cyst that infects and kills you. That other voice doesn’t go away either: ha! I was right!

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But Enough about My Ass

17 Jun
image stolen from dailycuteness.com

image stolen from dailycuteness.com

No! Never enough about my ass. Typing this standing up. The pain spread to my balls. They’re a pair of brass doorknobs clattering on each other. I can stand so my balls don’t touch my thighs. I can avoid sitting. But I cannot prevent my balls from having contact with each other. Pissing is OK, until I get to the last “drain it all the way” squirt. You want to flex your taint, muscle out the last few drops. This requires your asshole. Everything requires your asshole. And now every nerve command stops on its way there. A bite of pain flares up. My body says are you sure. I learned how to cough without clenching my ass. How to clear my throat. Do you know if your toothbrush hits your gums too far back, you clench your ass? No? Shatter a beer bottle and stick in in your ass and then brush your teeth if you don’t believe me.

A fart is like a knife. A shit is not so bad, interestingly. Except my ass– it’s like an old movie where a cop is trying to talk to a hysterical woman and has to smack her. It’s so traumatized it just shuts down. And I can’t push. That will make the hemorrhoid pop out. You have to be patient. Just let it drop. The prescription strength stool softener does nothing. My stools were already pillow soft.

I can either sit in the bath or lay face first on the couch. Fine. What would I have done anyway. I have no job. But it hurts, it hurts. I should have taken the Vicodin script. Trying to be Dudley fucking Do-right over here with my sobriety. Nobody’s giving me a prize for this shit. I have a couple jobs lined up. I’m not following up on them, because of my ass. I will lose this woman over my ass. My life maybe.

Oh well. They made more.

It Will Be Very Unpleasant

17 Jun
image stolen from elderscrolls.wikia.com

image stolen from elderscrolls.wikia.com

At the Mexican Doctor to get my surgeon referral. For the ass surgery I will need. Telemundo is on and the Copa Mundial is playing. Nigeria versus somebody. There’s a pressboard portrait of Christ on the wall, mounted on an oval piece of burlap, with the Oracion por la Paz. It feels like there’s a swiss army knife in my shitcave and all the blades keep flying open. The corkscrew.

Will he too have to finger my asshole. What will this accomplish. Someone needs to look. Feel is not enough. Especially with those gloves– maybe he could tell what it is if he went in raw. Yesterday the ER told me it’s a hemorrhoid, which it isn’t. It’s an anorectal abscess. I know from the internet. Sudden onset anal pain that escalates quickly. Coupled with fever and chills. Lethal if left untreated, but lancing provides instant relief.

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Protected: Coffee Shop Diary: Ass

14 Jun

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Protected: Diary: Morning Self-Assessment

9 Jun

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