10th
36. Being Broke As Fuck
Hey there, kids! I’m pleased to announce that Finals Week is now over, which means more savings for you! Unfortunately, it also means that I’m currently suffering from a case of stress-related hives, but whatever- you can’t make an omelet without breaking some red, irritated areas on your skin. I’ve also got a shitload of new readers- like, I’m well over two thousand followers on Tumblr- which means I have a lot of new people to disappoint, both comedically AND sexually. But I swear, you guys, that has NEVER HAPPENED to me before. Wait, where are you going? Come back! I paid for the whole hour!!!
Well, fuck.
Speaking of paying people to have sex with me, today’s invective is about money… or rather, my lack of it. I know, pretty soon I’ll be writing these things while wearing a piano-key necktie and asking what the deal is with airline food. In other words, it’s not the most original thing I could have picked. But I have a fairly good feeling that being more broke than MC Hammer is gonna be something a lot of you can relate to. Although if my statistical analysis of this site’s traffic is correct, everyone reading this is a teenage Hispanic female who’s currently in grad school. So maybe you can’t relate to having no cash and you’re just reading this for your thesis on mildly retarded man-children who are addicted to horse tranqs and watching dogs shit. Either way, the terrorists aren’t winning today.
Now, if I may deviate from my usual aimless babbling (the nurses are trying to kill me), I’d like to tell you a story about my own life. It’s something that happened to me a few months ago, and it’s what led to me creating this website and “entertaining” all of you. The reason it’s taken me this long to come forward with it had nothing at all to do with any kind of law, lawyers, team of lawyers, legal advice, lawsuits, or Furries. Truth be told (and what I’m about to tell you is just that), it’s because I didn’t know if I could make it funny enough for you guys. But I’m gonna sure as hell try, Granny Tinkle. Now get a new pair of Depends, because this self-indulgent pity party is gonna take a while.
*Note- the following is NOT meant as any sort of pity party, “poor me” white whine bullshit, or anything else other than a spicy melange of frustration and hopefully humor. Any attempt to interpret it as anything other than comedy may result in explosive diarrhea (I hope).
As some of you may know, I used to work in tech support. I thought fixing computers was what I wanted to do with my life. I wasn’t particularly great at it, but I had a few monkey skills and I genuinely enjoyed helping people. Unfortunately, the company I worked for thought differently… by firing me for being an incompetent shithead. Oh, and it was two weeks after telling them that I was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder. I’ll just let you chew on that part for a minute.
Pissed off now? Yeah, so was I. Even though I told them that in good conscience (I didn’t legally have to tell them dick, but I was trying to demonstrate that I actually gave a fuck about my job), they still fired me. And for what? I’m not going to get into the details, but I will say this- it was for something that I had seen other people do multiple times with no sort of repercussion at all.
Now if that wasn’t enough, here’s some salt in the vagina for you. During my exit interview, the HR person I spoke to provided me with a packet of info for filing unemployment, and said these exact fucking words, to my face:
“Now, I know that if you get fired from a job, the state has to investigate an unemployment claim, but we’re not in the business of shooting them down- we don’t gain anything by it.”
So guess what happened next? That’s right, boys and girls, my free drinking money was denied. And that’s not a determination the state makes- they call your last employer and ask if so-and-so should get unemployment even though that person was fired. Your last employer says either “sure, we don’t care” or “no, fuck that guy”. As you can see, this left me wondering-
- Where I could buy the world’s biggest flaming bag of dog shit, and
- Did I really want to pursue a career I obviously wasn’t great at?
I decided the only thing left for me to do was to go back to college. Armed with a better understanding of how broken my brain actually was (and a large dose of prescription speed), I figured maybe this time (my third trip back, if you can believe THAT shit) would be the one that sticks. Besides, tech support probably isn’t the best career choice for a guy who can’t hold a thought longer than a dosed goldfish.
So now I’m back in school, trying to put right what once went wrong, hoping that my next leap will be the leap home. Wait, that’s Quantum Leap. Sorry.
Seriously- and again, I’m not writing this to earn your pity, but to vent my frustration (and the enchiladas I found in the road earlier)- going from a $50k a year job to boiling your own nail clippings for dinner is a bit jarring, obviously. Hell, who am I fooling? It’s a fuckin’ huge bummer, is what it is. It’s also why I had to put the ads you see on here- I didn’t really want to do it, but I figured I might as well give it a shot. So far? I’ve made almost enough money to recoup the cost of registering the goddamn URL for a year. Soon I’ll have enough to buy gum!
I know it’s a temporary situation (if you can call the next three fucking years ”temporary), and that plenty of people on this planet have it WAY more raw than I do. I know that. I also know that there are LOTS of fat guys who haven’t seen their own dick in so long they’d need a computer-enhanced “aged” photo to see what it looks like now, but we’re not talking about them, we’re talking about ME, and MY acorn dick. Er, I mean my bank account. Man, that was close.
I guess I’ll wrap this up- my dog found something a car hit, and I’m gonna go fight her for it. I wonder if it’ll make a decent breakfast hash. If you turn on the news and see footage of a hazmat team cleaning up what’s called the “Brownwater Spill”, then the answer is undoubtedly yes.
PS- to all my regular readers out there, ¿Tiene suficiente material para su tesis de mierda, sin embargo, que las putas?
