This “column” crap is easy money, man. Look at how many there are, right? Yee-fucking-haw, man, that’s some low-hanging fruit for sure, the columnisting. That’s why I’m alla time Got Beef with The Man all steppin’ on my neck with this every-other-week nonsense, kna’mean? My Carotid Artery of Cashflow is not pulsing to its fullest potential, and what really hacks me off as I try to blink away the no-dollar-signs swimming before my bulging eyes in my semiconscious state are all these other “columnists,” both Foreign and Domestic to my fishwrap, who take “time off” and go “on vacation” and shit like that, and they got, like, weekly-or-more gigs, right, man?
Look, columnists, next time you go and miss a week, also known as “not doing your job,” I don’t care where you work, you gimme the fuckin’ space, man, because What I Believe is the only thing more insulting to a Reader than my column and my every-other-weakness is when some Weekly emm-effer goes “on vacation.” First of all, how the fuck can you be on vacation for something that didn’t happen yet? It’s like, I’m on vacation right now, bitches, yeah, for reals, but there’s this thing called Time, and I smeared this week’s every-other all over some nice Microsoft Word before I went “on vacation,” see?
Jesus H&R Block, man, you don’t do this shit somewhere all live and important like on teevee or something. Hells-bells-to-the-no, all you fucking do is push on some little plastic things all in advance and ahead of time, and then they (and you know who They are) go and print it on some newsprints or pixilate it on some World Wide Webs, you know? You can’t be going on vacation and not filing your shit, ever. It’s like this; You file your fucking stuff, and then you take some vacation. Take all you want, you actually earned it, dig? You gone for more than one iteration of your junk? File two fucking columns, man, wow, crazy idea, eh? You got time to send somebody an e-mail about how you are on vacation? Then you mos’ skippy got time to file your fucking garbage. I mean, I thought this was America and stuff, where there was a Work Ethic, hah? There’s a boatload of immigrants Over There who would file 10 columns a week forever if they got the chance, and they wouldn’t stop filing until somebody pried their cold dead fingers off’n that keyboard, boy howdy, and fuck you about what language it’s filed in, becausin’ at least that shit would be filed and Out There for The Readers to read, and if they didn’t know the language they were reading, they probably could learn it to fluency by the time your lazy ass got back from some fucking imaginary newspaper-column “vacation,” feel me?
So, Dear Readers, check it: When you see some note someplace about how some “columnist” ain’t columning this week, think of me, Gentle Reader, because I Care, man, seriously, I would never not file my crap, seriously. And like I said, right now I’m all on vacation and shit, no lie, right now. I’m drinking some nice frosty beer and enjoying a delicious meal, maybe like, I dunno, some big juicy lobsters or something like that? But I didn’t get ’em at no Whole Foods, man, y’heard? They ain’t selling live lobsters anymore, only dead ones, I guess, or maybe just no lobsters on account of it is Cruel and Unusual to vend the Homarus americanus, or at least to imprison and then boil its ass alive, ouch. Anyway, I don’t even really dig on shellfish too much on account of it is basically the Swine of the Sea, as opposed to, like, Chicken of the Sea, and I woulda examined this topic in greater Detail in my err-other-week “column,” but I’m on vacation, man, I can’t deal with these weighty matters right now, you know? So anyway, more beer, man, I feel good, because right before I went on the vacation I’m on as you read this, I filed my column and Got Paid, and now I’m spreading the wealth, cheers.
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