I JUDGE WISELY, AS IF NOTHING EVER SURPRISE ME*
*except in this instance.
Preface: What follows is probably the illest thing you will hear today, unless you are listening to a Jet taking off.
'I love it when things are correct'
So I just got a new Tenant at my place, to help out with the Rent. What happened was, someone put an advertisement in prime-time without my knowledge, dudes (and chicks) started ringing me day and night asking 'Hey, hi - when the fuck can I come and live in your place IOYC, I am so homeless right now, I was Evicted during a Snowstorm'. So I thought 'fuck this' and hired a Professional to sort through all the bullshit.
The thing is, that Professional set me up with an Executioner, in my house. This dude's job is straight up, dispensing fatal justice on behalf of the King or some shit. He looks pretty chilled but you don't want to fuck with him. At first I was like, 'that's pretty interesting' and then I was like 'wait, this could fuck up really badly'. The dude assured me he won't 'bring his work home' but then within minutes --> he did. I guess he can't really get enough of the Death Penalty / Job Satisfaction, fair enough as that shit is so important for well being. Is it bad Feng Shui to have a fucking Guillotine in your Hallway? Also, how can I possibly have a Guest or some shit, so much embarrassment, 'Oh this is my Tenant, an Executioner, don't worry about the stigma attached he's so okay, oh FUCK I've burnt the Roast I put on, this has gone to shit.' ANOTHER GUEST RUINED --> Executioner, please don't accidentally kill them on their way out WINK WINK.
I'll probably just move myself out, seems easier, hire a van and pile all my things into it willy-nilly, 'On the Road Again'. Life being a travelling Journalist is alright, but sometimes I just wish it was heaps better.
Preface: What follows is probably the illest thing you will hear today, unless you are listening to a Jet taking off.
'I love it when things are correct'
So I just got a new Tenant at my place, to help out with the Rent. What happened was, someone put an advertisement in prime-time without my knowledge, dudes (and chicks) started ringing me day and night asking 'Hey, hi - when the fuck can I come and live in your place IOYC, I am so homeless right now, I was Evicted during a Snowstorm'. So I thought 'fuck this' and hired a Professional to sort through all the bullshit.
The thing is, that Professional set me up with an Executioner, in my house. This dude's job is straight up, dispensing fatal justice on behalf of the King or some shit. He looks pretty chilled but you don't want to fuck with him. At first I was like, 'that's pretty interesting' and then I was like 'wait, this could fuck up really badly'. The dude assured me he won't 'bring his work home' but then within minutes --> he did. I guess he can't really get enough of the Death Penalty / Job Satisfaction, fair enough as that shit is so important for well being. Is it bad Feng Shui to have a fucking Guillotine in your Hallway? Also, how can I possibly have a Guest or some shit, so much embarrassment, 'Oh this is my Tenant, an Executioner, don't worry about the stigma attached he's so okay, oh FUCK I've burnt the Roast I put on, this has gone to shit.' ANOTHER GUEST RUINED --> Executioner, please don't accidentally kill them on their way out WINK WINK.
I'll probably just move myself out, seems easier, hire a van and pile all my things into it willy-nilly, 'On the Road Again'. Life being a travelling Journalist is alright, but sometimes I just wish it was heaps better.
4 Comments:
Don't you live in the windmill any more?
This is the best current affairs article you've ever written. You'll def. (ie, Abbreviation of definitely - not implying you're hard of hearing) win the Most Topic Article Written in a Broadsheet or Website award at the Logies.
I just wish everything was heaps better.
All those random capitals make me want to stab myself in the thigh to relieve the pain.
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