The cops were running my street last night. My best friend Germ and my brother had just gotten back from commiting numerous nameless federal offenses when they pulled up to atleast 20+ cop cars roaming my block, most in the yard of my neighbors. But they weren't there for them. I still don't know what happened but for that much heat it had to be one of three things.
1. Murder. They were flashing their lights in the river.
2. The Speedway across the street go robbed at gunpoint.
3. They caught the arson who burned the nieghbors house down.
So naturally my brother says, "Let's go out and see what's goin' on." "I'm trashed." I retort. "So?" "That's public intox." "No it isn't, you got a right to see what's going on on your block." My brother's one of those guys that knows all his rights but has been in jail more times than Ron Jeremy's been in pussy. He's a journalism major and a taurus. Pushy and totally uninformed. He'll make a great reporter. As for me, I got this little thing called common sense.
So we go, a million cops creep by shining the light on us, but they keep on rolling. My brother's drinking a beer in the street and I got enough Jack Daniels in me to clean the paint off a buick. Germ is just Germ. Anyway, eventually go back in to finish watching House of 1000 Corpses and pass out.
I wake up for work and I'm still drunk. And, I have a meeting with the Human Resources dude in an hour. For those of you that don't know I'm a security gaurd. All my bosses are retired cops. They're are gonna KNOW I'm drunk. That's what they're trained for. But I pulled it off. In fact, I was so relaxed, it was like Peter's interview with the Bobs in Office Space. I got those fuckers tied around my little finger now. Did I mention I wore a Queers shirt that read next stop rehab to the meeting and still pulled theur fuckin' legs like a kid in a candy store. Maybe I should get into a profession where I get paid to bullshit. Oh wait, I'm already a writer.
JOHNNY CASH IS DEAD. I MUST GO TAKE MY OWN LIFE TO 'DESPERADO'. GOOD BYE ALL...
1. Murder. They were flashing their lights in the river.
2. The Speedway across the street go robbed at gunpoint.
3. They caught the arson who burned the nieghbors house down.
So naturally my brother says, "Let's go out and see what's goin' on." "I'm trashed." I retort. "So?" "That's public intox." "No it isn't, you got a right to see what's going on on your block." My brother's one of those guys that knows all his rights but has been in jail more times than Ron Jeremy's been in pussy. He's a journalism major and a taurus. Pushy and totally uninformed. He'll make a great reporter. As for me, I got this little thing called common sense.
So we go, a million cops creep by shining the light on us, but they keep on rolling. My brother's drinking a beer in the street and I got enough Jack Daniels in me to clean the paint off a buick. Germ is just Germ. Anyway, eventually go back in to finish watching House of 1000 Corpses and pass out.
I wake up for work and I'm still drunk. And, I have a meeting with the Human Resources dude in an hour. For those of you that don't know I'm a security gaurd. All my bosses are retired cops. They're are gonna KNOW I'm drunk. That's what they're trained for. But I pulled it off. In fact, I was so relaxed, it was like Peter's interview with the Bobs in Office Space. I got those fuckers tied around my little finger now. Did I mention I wore a Queers shirt that read next stop rehab to the meeting and still pulled theur fuckin' legs like a kid in a candy store. Maybe I should get into a profession where I get paid to bullshit. Oh wait, I'm already a writer.
JOHNNY CASH IS DEAD. I MUST GO TAKE MY OWN LIFE TO 'DESPERADO'. GOOD BYE ALL...
VIEW 22 of 22 COMMENTS
nice reference to office space
i was just lookin through yr pics
its so awesome you had on an exploited shirt and a dead kennedy's had when you were 12.
two thumbs up
[Edited on Sep 15, 2003]