Awkward

Mmm. I have to admit I’m super turned-on right now. We’re talking an all-expenses-paid sojourn to Boner Town. If erections were currency I’d have a liquidity in turgidity. There is nothing on my mind except getting this thing in my pants some release. 

I gotta be honest here. I might not make it through the whole day without “punching a clown in the nose” if you know what I mean. I’m saying I might have to excuse myself to go “slam dance with a Mongol.” Don’t be offended, it’s just that I’m so sexually charged up usually that I “make a movie with Keanu Reeves” at least six or seven times a day.

And hold on, before you get all high and mighty about my sexual gratification habits, just remember that people living in glass houses should not tell me to stop masturbating so much. Seriously, you live in a glass house. That seems much more dangerous and weird than me “taking a walk on Park Avenue with an umbrella in my butthole” every couple hours, don’t you think?

We all have our “things.” Your thing is owning every Vin Diesel movie on Blu Ray. I don’t begrudge you your weird obsession with that guy. So why are you all “you shouldn’t masturbate all the time” with me? I always try to live my life by the motto “Don’t judge me for my masturbatory preferences.” It’s a motto that I think works really well with me. Keeps my life rolling in a positive direction.

So what if I ocassionally have to step away from what I’m doing to quickly “give my Wee One a high five?” Is it really any of your business? Yes, I do realize this is your business. Yes, I do realize that this is where you do your business, so why not let me do mine? Unto each his own, after all. Different strokes for different folks, literally.

Look, I’ll make you a deal, I won’t “write a screenplay for Natalie Portman” as much. But if you want me to do that for you, you have to give me a few concessions. I want peanut butter and jelly sandwiches always stocked in the downstairs fridge. I want to be able to listen to my music whenever I want, for however long as I want, as loudly as I want. I want you to paint my office in either green or red, or both. Christmas colors make me so fucking horny. Finally, I want four more paid vacati0n days than Jack, that guy’s a fucking dickhead to me, and I have to have something in my life to hold over his fat fucking head.

So, what do you think? Want to hire me? I think I’d make a really great cashier, though I’ve always wanted to work in the kitchen too. Plus Big Macs make me so fucking horny.