Internet ChronicleIt means ‘opinion,’ dumbass.
A group of women from the Focus on the Family for Profit charity foundation cried out in protest Monday after soon-to-be-Former First Lady Melania Trump disrespected the President in front of their Israeli hosts by selfishly swatting Donald’s hand away as he reached out for support.
Upon arrival, I slept for 12 hours.
This morning I woke up, took a long shower, and hit the road. I walked a mile through Queens to the Rosedale Station, where I’m sitting now.
On the way I purchased half a chicken, a half pound of Spanish rice, and a bottle of Coke for $9. So much for kicking soda. I am now carrying a quarter chicken and most of the rice around with me.
Yesterday, out of desperate starvation, I bought a $3 hot dog from a cart near Penn Station, where I took this photo:
I turned around from the hot dog vendor and accidentally made eye contact with an old man, from three feet away, who was literally eating meat off a chicken bone from the garbage, and staring intensely at me as he did so, as if I were the one making him do it. There was something simultaneously punk and horrifying about meeting eyes with a man hunched over a trash can for his dinner plate. And that is when I realized I am one stolen debit card away from jockeying for position over the good trash cans around tourist hubs.
So what did I do next? I stuck my fucking debit card into the greasy, diseased, yawning hole that is the MTA ticket box, and bought a ticket to Queens.
Sleep is my home now. Everything else around me is temporary and unfamiliar. It’s exciting and dreadful at the same time. But as long as these uncertain days are punctuated by quality sleep, then everything else is going to be just fine.
Today I am purchasing a monthly MTA card, so I only hear the cash register bang once, instead of repeatedly throughout the day. It’s usually not so much the price that bothers me, but the experience of spending.
Fortunately, I give off that vibe. Yesterday I was approached by a bum on the street who took one look at me and threw out his hand in dismissal. He grunted and, under his breath, muttered, “Forget it.”
I am on my way to Manhattan, for no particular reason.
Hi, I’m Dr. Angstr Hirem Troubledames and I am chief of human resources at the legendary chemical warfare contractor and Internet Chronicle publisher Lebal Drocer, Inc. At Lebal Drocer we specialize in putting tear gas and mustard gas into the wrong hands at the right time. Watch out Assad! The chemical monster’s comin’ to gitcha! (Just kidding. We like to have fun, here! [But seriously, watch it]).
But I come to you today with a message. Good tidings. And I’d like to extend a veiny, rock-hard olive branch to all the pretty ladies out there just looking for a job, or an excuse to leave the house.
More to the point, my bosses have been riding me like a whore four on the floor over hiring practices, and our lawyers are telling me it’s high time we show a little beaver in the workplace. So here’s my pitch (a “pitch” is when one man tries to sell his idea to another man – or, in this case – a woman):
Construction workers are often misunderstood as misogynistic, aggressive cat callers according to Lebal Drocer Ethics Board Chairman Raleigh T. Hatesec.
“In actuality,” Dr. Hatesec explained, “the men shouting from down in that hole are trying to lure more women into the workplace, where their absence is sorely frustrating.”
I get it. Sometimes while we’re driving rivets into steel, we like to be reminded it’s nice to FUCK something, so this is why I look around at the cock-worshiping, Freudian dildo cigar gauntlet that is the Lebal Drocer Tower lobby and I think, ‘Hey, you know what would look good in that corner right over there? A beautiful woman. Have her answer the phone or something.’
I went into the Yahoo! office and first thing I noticed was this beautiful blonde with big tits, dressed like she wanted it. I said ,”Now there’s a tall drink of water!” And this dame works here. I leaned into her, real close – she could smell my essence – and I said, “Hey there Sugar Tits, you got a daddy? Because Daddy’s standing right here, you feel me? ‘Cause I feel you. Now here’s 20 bucks. Buy yourself somethin’ cheap.”
The answer to the question, where are all the broads, is you, ladies. Get off your asses, quit spending your husbands’ money, and come get a job already. If you act now, and submit your little resumé to Lebal Drocer, Inc. Cuthbert, Ga. we’ll even throw in a complimentary handbag, because we know how much you like that shit.
