So there was this horny woman who would go from bar to bar, club to club, and house to house, trying to find a man who would woo her sexual needs in a unique way. She would often get involved with a man every night, but she was growing tiresome of the same routine, with the same vibe and the same outcome. Subsequently, the boredom was growing until she rejected every man who would approach her every night. However, one day, as she was carrying a large glass statue of a penis, she bumped into a carpenter on the street and dropped it. The carpenter with guilt said, “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry for breaking your glass penis! Is there anything I can do for you?” The woman replies, “What can you offer me?” To which the carpenter says,
"I’ve got wood."
And that was the story of how wood became another word for penis.
I’ve woken up earlier than usual today. So I guess I can blog about something. The question is… about what? Seeing that I’ve been busy with work, my program, school applications, and SITTIN’ ON A TOILET, there are about… 7 things to blog about. How?
My diarrhea counts as 4 stories: Needing to go, finding a place, sitting down, and then BAM!
I’m sorry you had to imagine that.
No really… I am… >=)
But anyways, it’s been pretty hectic so far. I lie about preparing for my school application, though. The only thing that is keeping me busy is work. I get more shifts this week and next since an employee is on vacation for 2 weeks. So more fun times for me! Yayyyyyyy—-
Work is so boring, man…
I’m glad I get to barely do anything, but time goes by slower. Why does being busier and time flying by, have to correlate with each other in that fashion? I’d rather it be, time flies by when you’re doing nothing! I know that implies that you will die faster if you are doing nothing, but would that not motivate people to become active citizens? This way we’ll have less fat, ugly, bastards who’s only contribution to society is being FAT.
I’m obviously joking. I know fat people who are oh, so awesome.
It’s the OTHER fat people I hate… You know what I mean.
I’m also glad to be having more shifts now. I hate working, but I hate being poor. So this is my only solution for money, unless I whore myself around to lonely females who are tired of using the cucumber at the grocery store as a substitute.
"A substitute for what?"
A substitute for the carrot ;D
"I don’t get it."
My work is not very interesting. I sell auto parts to old men who need them. And we all know how much I know about cars! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA——nothing. I don’t even drive yet… I should really get on that. Perhaps it will make my job and life easier. But for now, I will continue to lie to customers about how certain I am that this type of oil will not clog up in their car.
And by car, I mean their wife’s vagina.
Can you believe a customer asked me if the oil we sell can be a substitute as a lubricant? OH YES, of COURSE you can use that oil during sex! It’s not like it’s gonna POISON you or anything! YOU FUCKING JENIUS!
I spelled genius wrong on purpose. It’s ironic!
And if you’re really wondering… no, a customer did not ask if oil can act as a lubricant in bed. I just thought it’d be a good laugh. But I got you, didn’t I?
However there was a brown customer who was trying to describe to me a part he was looking for. With his left had, he made and ‘o’ shape. With his right hand, he lifted his index finger. With both hands, he took his index finger and put it in the ‘o’ shape in his left hand and shoved it in and out, in and out. He was being serious. I was trying my best not to smile, as it would look awkward for me to smile and look at a brown man, as he gestured a visual idea of sex in front of my face.
Other than that, work is not very exciting. I will never blog about work unless something as disturbing as the story above is experienced. I don’t want to complain about how bad work is sometimes, how customers piss me off or how some people are so stupid. I’ve complained about those already, and too much.
But I will continue to make fun of them. This blog was very boring. This is what happens when I don’t blog for a long time. Be patient. I’m sure I’ll pick up the pace soon.
That’s what SHE hoped for.
Okay I’m done.