My favorite job was being a pizza boy. I liked making cash. Everyday taking home money. Cool people, I met. The coolest people I met at pizza places. Also, very relaxed setting. Like if it wasn’t busy, I could bullshit around with everyone or I could just go to my car and do something. For example, write poems. And I got to listen to music all the time. It was good. I had some car issues so I was no longer able to be a beloved pizza boy. But I liked being a pizza boy. Let the record show.
Baby, do you remember
When I kissed your butthole and let my tongue flicker
Baby, do you remember
When they came out with that app, Flickr
Neither do I. After sex make me pie
I want it with vanilla and cherry
And decorate the plate with berries
Oh we don’t have any? Go pick some
Off a tree, duh
Don’t look at me like that, just get going woman
I swear, women are so difficult
Boil a pot of rainwater
Drop your pants, position yourself over the pot (as if shitting), let steam hit asshole for 5 minutes.
Then, squeeze a bit of honey onto index finger. Rub index finger around asshole.
Next, do the same with Hershey’s Chocolate Syrup.
Finally, lay flat on the floor, spread asscheeks apart and rip a sugar packet over your asshole.
Bon appetit. Your significant other is now ready to eat your asshole. Delicious!
I put yogurt in a pot and boiled it
Diced a carrot. Add it to the mixture
Then, put a cup of orange juice in mixture
Shake mixture till it becomes a paste
Pour paste onto a pan, add oil
Let it boil. Then eat!
I’ma chill kuz even thugs relax
I remember this guy used to bring his lunch pack
To school every day, EXCEPT FRIDAY
Because Friday was pizza day
Oh now you wanna eat our food!
There’s a big ass billboard by my house advertising guns. I’m not kidding. I found it a little distasteful but now it’s like whatever.
I went there…I asked, what’s the best gun to murder people with?
He said, don’t do it kid. Off yourself if you want. Any gun’ll do.
Yeah. Maybe you’re right.
What’s wrong anyway? Why you thinking this nonsense?
You ever feel like, this world is not for you?
Everyday man. Everyday.
Yeah. Well I don’t know man. I can either commit suicide. Commit homicide. Or commit suicide and homicide.
Sounds like you’re deciding what to eat at a restaurant.
Haha. Oh man that’s good. It’s good to laugh, it makes me less hostile.
*someone in line is complaining because I’m taking too long*
Hold on. This guy is thinking about committing a mass shooting.
“Really? I was thinking that the other day! Real shit. Last month. I was like 80% gonna go through with it.”
What stopped you?
“Well this guy told me I was a fucking idiot. That didn’t stop him from selling me the weapon though.”
Hey business is business man. Business is business.
“So what’s up? Are you gonna buy something or what?”
No. Now I just feel hungry. Hey I just thought of something. If I kill myself, I won’t be able to have that really good feeling when you’re done eating or throughout eating, like you know how it feels good when you eat something fire? Hey maybe all 3 of us should go eat.
Fuck it. Why not?
“Yeah fuck it. I can squeeze it in. And I am a little hungry.”
And we can all hold hands and cross the street to McDonald’s. Yay!
Hey. Now you’re getting carried away…What’s your name?
*15 minutes later. We’re eating at McDonald’s*
Dave made his wife a burger.
Dave: I made you a burger.
Molly: Thanks. I hope it doesn’t suck like last time.
Dave: Every fuckin time! You always have to talk shit. Why can’t you just say, “gee thanks Dave for the burger.”
Molly: Ok. Thanks Dave for the burger.
*Molly takes a bite*
Molly: It actually sucks a little less than last time.
Dave: That does it!
Molly: Where are you going?
Dave: I’m going out with the boys. At least they know how to treat a man!
Molly: Alright. You better not call me later crying.
Dave: I never do that.
*Later that night*
Dave: Oh my God, Molly. I love you. Just – please tell me my burgers are good.
Molly: Your burgers are good
Dave: Thank you!
Molly: At making me not want to eat. Haha.
Dave: Seriously? I’m about to throw myself in front of a car.
Molly: Great. One less shitty burger maker in the world.
Dave’s Friend: Dave! What are you doing?
Dave: I’m talking to my wife!
Dave’s Friend: What is she saying?!
Dave: She’s saying good things!