Blah, Blah, Blah.
This is what I doodled in my notebook at a work meeting the other day...as I was listening to the ramblings of people I don't care about talk about things I don't like to do.
...and it got me thinking about Dream Jobs.
Now, granted, I don’t have the most awful job in the world.
I work in the tech industry, I get to wear jeans and – occasionally – my Underdog t-shirt to work, and I’m paid reasonably well.
This is in stark contrast to the janitor in my building, who gets paid sh*t, has to wear an outfit, and – on the rear occasion – must wipe up the remnants of an episode of explosive diarrhea in the men’s room.
As a side note, please notice that I said "Men’s Room” – not “Ladies Room” - as ladies don’t have diarrhea…as I’m convinced that they don’t poo.
..little poo fairies come and take it away in their sleep.
This is what happens.
I firmly believe this.
I need to maintain this fantasy, so I can continue to look women in the face without picturing them sitting on the john with their wrists under their knees, hiking their legs up to their chin, trying to get leverage to push out the anaconda that’s been building up since the Mexican dinner the night before.
Again, ladies don’t poo.
They just don’t.
I don’t want to discuss the matter any further.
Anyway – so we know that this guy gets paid dogsh*t to essentially clean up our pee stains.
I feel for this guy…I really do.
And I know, deep down inside, he hates my guts.
I know he resents the fact that he has to go through his day looking at me in my Underdog shirt, making 5 times the money he is, and say:
“How the f*ck did that a-hole get here…and why am I picking up his dingleberries?”
(..for maximum effect, say the above line with a Mexican accent..maybe add the word "Homes" to the end of it..)
I also know he resents me because, when I see him in the bathroom cleaning the floor (with that mop bucket full of rinse water that looks like it’s been dredged through Loch Ness, and then filled with crap…seriously, how f*cking clean is he REALLY getting our floor?), I do the following:
1) Say "hi," as to catch his eye
2) I flick a booger on the wall over the urinal
3) I pee on the edge of the urinal (extra points if you’re at the short urinal, and actually pee on TOP of it near the handle)
4) I put the water on full blast so as it sprinkles the entire countertop as I’m washing my hands (after letting the soap drizzle from the dispenser all over the counter, of course)
5) I wipe my hands and then drop the paper towel directly on the floor…only an inch wide of the basket
6) I call him a “f*cking peasant” as I walk out the door
So I have this weird feeling that he hates me.
Anyway, so I started thinking of dream jobs…I mean…if I could have ANY job in the world, what would it be?
Now, for the ladies out there, I believe this is the common answer (as I hear this ALL the time):
A Woman on her dream job:
“I want a job where I can work part time hours, but still get paid well. The part time hours would give me the time to take care of my kids in the morning, and be home for them in the afternoon. But I’d still want a job that was challenging and fun, and that my kids would respect me for.”
Very nice and respectable.
We applaud you.
A Man on his dream job:
“Adult film star or professional masturbator.”
Dream jobs for guys include face contortioning.
Now THAT’S what job satisfaction is all about.
(…as a side note, if there’s a woman out there reading this who thinks, “that WOULD be a great job”, call me)
To my wife: I'm kidding, hon.
Now, you can make a MODEST living by doing this via sperm bank…
...but you’re only allowed to go back every so often…
...and there’s no live action other than the prospect of “you being the director” – with director I mean "deciding whether or not you’re going to direct it to the left, or direct it to the right".
I know that some guys out there are saying, “sportscaster…or maybe video game tester…”.
You’re all full of sh*t...you’re kidding yourself.
Think DREAM job – if you could do anything, anything in the world and get paid for it, wouldn’t it be porno?
Of COURSE it would.
Really – would you rather be on the sidelines of the Superbowl with two teams you could give a rat’s ass about...
...or get stuck in Take 15 of an orgy scene with 6 other women?
I thought so.
(..as a side note, let me say that another guy in the scene is okay, as long as I don't have to touch it...)
I’m sure every single man out there – including you gay men – have thought about being in the adult film industry.
You know, you’re there with your tissue(s), watching “Rambone 2” and saying, “Hey…I could be that guy...his dick’s not THAT big…”
You picture the moment…heading to L.A and getting into the industry.
Seriously – how hard can it be? I mean, runaways get sucked into it without trying – if you ARE trying, it HAS to be easy.
In fact, with the advent of the amateur and fetish industry, ANYONE can get into it.
There’s movies with:
fat chicks / fat guys / midgets / fat midgets / Asians / Blacks / Blacks and Asians / lesbians / gays / bi’s / fat-chicks and skinny guys…
...you name it, there’s a category for it.
Christ, there’s even a category for people who like to get pooped on!
Speaking of that fetish…who was the first person to market that as a fetish..and how did it come about?
I mean, was the guy and his girl messing around one night and she accidentally sharted on him?
I would have to guess that the first instance of this in the history of this poo-fetish HAD to be an accident.
There’s NO WAY someone purposefully looked at the other person in their life, and said:
“Honey. You know I love you, don’t you? Having a steaming pile of sh*t on my chest can only make our love stronger. Would you please drop a loaf in my eye?”
Anyway – the adult film industry. We’ve all thought about it.
I mean, if Ron Jeremy can get paid for sticking his giant fat ass out there, isn’t there hope for the rest of us?
My problem is that I don’t think there’s a fetish out there yet that exists for me, as I have yet to see a movie titled:
SNSPE4: Short, Near-sighted, Small-penis Premature Ejaculators…Part 4
Once I see that first one, though, I’m off.
I’m short..but I don’t think I qualify as midget status.
I think I have my own category: Runt.
So, that’s what I came up with as a guy's dream job.
But, you know, the part-time stuff to help take care of the family would be nice too.