The Zellbaca Chronicles |
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THE SEARCH Fifteen hours a week at $6 per hour is not enough money. So, I begin anew the job search. But this time, I’ll keep the one I have now while I do it...
What the crap? Why does a janitor need a background check? Anyway, how would one even find a janitor that didn’t have a shaky background? People don’t aspire to be janitors when they’re little... they rob a convenient store or have sex with a barn animal and become janitors after getting out of the joint. Additionally, I’ll be applying tomorrow, I’m sure.
$45/hr?! Holy fuck! How do I become a registered nurse?! It’s probably like a two week course, right? Can’t be any trickier than that. Although... I don’t handle the expulsion of bodily fluids very well... maybe I’ll pass.
Fuck. Yeah. I could totally be a principal. But I’d make no reference to the fact that synonym for “friend” is in the word “principal”. I’d drive home the point that it’s a homonym for another word. I would be the Principle Principal, and I’d rule with an iron fist. In fact, I’d commission the creation of an actual fist made from iron. Just for image.
I could so sell fat bitches make-up...
Stereotype of the state for... the... win...
Short, to the point, and misspelled. Just how I like my seasonal job prospect ads.
So... prostitution?
What the hell’s a dispatcher?
SWEET! I’m all over that!
Hmmm... actually, that doesn’t sound to bad. Fuck, I used to drive around just for fun. And I could be getting PAID for it? Awesome
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