How to Quit

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I’ve worked over forty-nine jobs in the Frederick County area.  That’s given me a wide range of work experiences, especially how to quit and how to get fired.  I now command salaries of up to nine dollars an hour.

At my last job, my boss, Jena, a rather attractive woman asked me to please get to work. I winked at her and said, “Jena, there is nothing wrong with getting a little behind.”
That was my last day there.

I have sales experience in jewelry, real estate, fire alarms, frozen steaks, furniture, and marijuana. None of these jobs was lucrative, but selling marijuana helped me to get laid once.

One of my qualities is that I take jobs that require mindless labor and no responsibility, and focus on getting to know my co-workers.  On the clock, I’m a real people person.

My main requirement now is that I work with women. My motto has always been: Work hard, play hard, but don’t play hard to get.  I’ve always appreciated promiscuous female co-workers–without them, I wouldn’t have had nearly as much sex on the job.

I’m currently seeking employment as a Mystery Shopper inside dialysis clinics.  Keeping a close eye on nurses comes naturally to me.

When I look back at my past, I can see that my future has to be better. It can’t be any worse.  It is always darkest just before the light.

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Spread Cheer

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Elevator! Elevator! We got the shaft!  The cheerleaders are doing a bang up job tonight.  My prom date is co-captain. Her blond hair bobs into the air as she drops down to do a split.  Her bouncing skirt revealing for a split second something that I would never get.  My life is like that. You can’t always get what you want. I couldn’t get what I really needed.

Here a Nip, There a Tuck

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Since I am always in the doghouse with my girlfriend, I would like to find a plastic surgeon to marry.  A nip here, a tuck there, I could look twenty years younger. Then a kidney transplant, and replace other organs that  have taken a beating. I’ll be good as new and ready for sex, drugs, and rock and roll.

Achieving Butt Crack

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May I rest my finger on your butt crack? At ten years old I asked her ,because I had been smacked very hard before. I negotiated this move and It paid off. My hand never ventured inside of her jeans. This uncharted territory would have to wait until I was twelve and drunk. The reaction I got from  this simple laying of finger was to have a rocket ready to spit up. Amazing. Few things have affected my life more than this.

Unforgettable Sex, 1982

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Do you want to shave my legs?  My roommate’s girlfriend was questioning me from across the room.  She came out of the bathroom totally naked.  My roommate was at work.  I was stoned so my judgement was thrown off.  Her smile, and what I knew of her past, led me to believe she wanted to make whoopie.

It was 1982, sex, drugs and rock and roll were a big part of my life then.  My roommate was a crack head.  This attractive girl would run up the street and get it for him.  She was fearless. That afternoon she taught me things you don’t learn in school.  I was 24 and nearly a virgin.  Twenty minutes passed and I was as wiped out as if I had wrestled a bear. There are events from my past that I wish I could forget, but this is not one of them.

Hot yoga teacher

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Oh my god my new yoga teacher is a babe. I’m going to put my yoga mat close to her so I can really examine her moves, and teachings. Wow this is really hard to do, lying on my stomach stretching numerous muscles, and the deep breathing. Why isn’t the teacher sweating profusely like me. The serene music only interrupted when I think the fat woman behind me farted. The pressure on my stomach is incredible and sorry teacher,  I may have a release also.  Namaste.