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I like you, you can follow me home and sleep with my sister.

31 Jul

Mr. Special is in the hizzy.

This guy is a piece of work.

He has a trio of young ladies surrounding him in the mall Starbucks.

Let me paint you a picture.

Tall, dark curly hair, hip hop athlete.

The pant, when he came in, were hanging below his balls in the front and below his ass cheeks in the back.

It reminds me of the old guy who went on American Idol and sang his own song.

“Pants on the ground.”

It was a tribute to the stupidity of the mind set sitting in front of me.

Talks like he may be retarded in a “Yo, MTV Raps” kinda way.

A quick example of the verbiage being used.

  • “Ain’t nobody hirin’ a man in this mall.” (Man is a stretch here.)
  • “Those shoes is IT!” (Complete with finger snaps.)
  • “Dirty sprite, nicca mids nuffm.” (?)

After reviewing this, I want to apologies for anyone who can be classified as retarded.

You people are mentally ahead of the game as far as this guy goes.

And, update, I have heard two of the girls refer to him by name.

Are you ready for his name?

This is the biggest bombshell of the whole encounter.

His name is “Pwey”

That is phonetically spelled, by the way.

Anyway, Pwey and his chunky posse have decided to walk to Target to fill out an application for Pwey.

Two things.

Number one. Is anyone shocked that neither Pwey or the funky bunch has a vehicle?

Number two. Would you hire this little bit of something wonderful?

Maybe its not two things, it just one.

This kid is unemployable because he has no idea that he is useless.

He will get hired, some place has to be that stupid, and it will happen.

But he is destined to stay at minimum wage forever.

Pissing and moaning about what some “Wall Street Banker” took from him.

Really? What banker was that?

The one that pulled your pants down? Or the one that told you that you should leave them down for the job interviews?

Either way, somebody gave this kid the wrong info and it will nose dive his career for the rest of his life.

And I am voting for mom and dad.

How proud they must be.

But, all kidding aside, someone should be held responsible for inflicting “Pwey” on the world.

I don’t want to be mean, ok actually I do, but this kid has nothing to offer the world at this point.

The shelters are putting dogs to death because nobody wants them, how about switching out the next pitbull to be gassed for Pwey?

He might not even mind.

I keep trying to get away from ragging on this kid, and I just can’t.

I have found in the past that when I can’t leave something alone its because my mind thinks its just that damned important.

Pwey must die for the good of humanity.

Think of it as a human sacrifice for us all.

See if we can’t curry a little favor with the gods.

I’m a Catholic, but I believe in hedging my bets when I can, and I try to bank a little mojo whenever I can.

Pays to be careful. these days.

 

DID YOU GET THE BOOK? GO TO AMAZON AND SEARCH “BITTERMAC”

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Posted by on July 31, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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