Monday, May 24, 2004

Job hunting.

I'm supposed to get a job sometime this summer. Well! I don't know why I'm expected to do such a thing... I have no marketable skills, I don't work well with people, I'm not fond of being told what to do, I sometimes snap into violent uncontrollable rages, so on and so forth; but still, this geas has been put upon my by my parents. So... options available to me... I was thinking something along the line of, say, getting one thousand dollars deposited in my checking account every two weeks for no obvious reason. Sadly, there doesn't seem to be any openings in that particular field, not yet at any rate.

Second thought: professional hitman. Brilliant, right? Hell, I even have family ties to the mob! (My great-uncle, Frank Hitchcock was a moderately notorious bootlegger during the twenties. Capone's gang took him out though. How many of you have family that was found dead in a ditch?) Unfortunately, these days, it's a hassle and a half for someone to get into the Mafia unless they're one of those freakin' AYE-talians. Damnation! I blame you, The Sopranos!

If professional hitmannery is out of my reach, I could always try to go freelance. Unfortunately, for some reason, this state considers murder to be a crime. Honestly! I really shouldn't have left New York. I also really wish I had learned about the whole legality issue a week ago. Or that I had a backyard, and shovel. Ah, well. I can hang on a little while without a real job. Maybe I'll try selling some delicious, delicious, meat pies to get by. They're delicious. And kosher! Probably! The Torah was never especially clear on the issue of hum... uh, miscellaneous meat. Beef? Sure, beef. That'll do.


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