Thursday 3rd January 2013by Megan Beth Koester
I have a college diploma. I once bought a frame for my college diploma at 99 Cents Only. The frame, which was constructed entirely of low-grade Chinese plastic, fell off the wall and broke within one hour of hanging it up in the glorified room in which I live. The diploma, and the broken frame, are now in my closet. I just checked – they’re exactly where I left them (leaning against the wall, wedged next to twenty bars of soap I purchased in bulk from the internet). The soap’s worth more than its closet companions; after all, at least I use the soap. If my parents knew the extent to which I don’t use my college diploma, they probably would have regretted paying for said college diploma. Oh, wait – they didn’t pay for my college diploma. Fuck them.
As the previous paragraph would imply, the job I have does not require a college diploma. I have seen the following things in the context of work this week.
1. A man wearing an American flag doo-rag fellate his own phallus
2. The same man, wearing the same doo-rag, attach electric toothbrushes to his aforementioned phallus with rubber bands for the purposes of erotic fulfillment
3. A man urinate in a Budweiser can and drink the can’s acidic contents
4. An obese man spray Reddi-Whip™ brand whipped topping all over his (extremely small and flaccid) genitals
5. A man with what appeared to be a whisper of a vestigial tail fuck himself with a novelty sized dildo, the likes of which one would purchase as a gag gift at Spencer’s Gifts
6. Two bears fuck in front of a professionally framed Logan’s Run poster
7. An extremely old man in a ski mask masturbate in a waterless bathtub and lick his own seed from his liver spotted fingers
8. A man continuously manipulate his mostly flaccid member for three minutes whilst intermittently eating bites of a banana