Whole Lotta Nothin’

What do I got?  A whole lotta nothin’.  Nothin’ to report on the IT Training front.  Nothin’ to report on the jobs front.  Nothin’ to report on the finding a place to live front, unless you count looking at complete dumps for wayyyyy too much money.  This has happened to me before.  This time around the holidays, everything slowwwwwws downnnnnnn to a crawl.  Now normally when things aren’t going my way, I do one of three things:  I eat, I drink, or I get high.  Right now, I’m doing all three.  I’m like a runaway train.  Destination Unknown!  Can you get there from here?  Who the hell knows!  Climb aboard!  Oh and by the way, just to prove to you that Amazon has FUCKING EVERYTHING, I searched for “synthetic urine” (in case I need to pass a pre-employment drug screening) and THEY HAVE IT!!  Oh Amazon, how I love you.  I think I’ll search Amazon for turds.  Just for fun.  I know I’ll regret it because I’ll have all sorts of scatological shit (get it?) showing up in my Facebook ads feed (sneaky fuckers) but what the fuck I like to fuck with Amazon since they like to take my money.  Annnnnd the answer is they have a Tommy the Turd Toy Set!  And I thought it’d show a picture of Donald Trump….silly me!  When I learn how to be a computer hacker I’m going to substitute Donald Trump’s face for the word “turd” all over the Interwebs!  I promise!  I know, grandiose.  This is what happens when I have nothing to tell you.  I turn to fantasy.

Speaking of turds, my Dad (who is generally a turd) is going for a consultation for a Fecal Transplant on Friday!  Can you THINK of anything more disgusting?  No?  Well read on…. Yes he’s hoping for a Fecal Transplant because he can’t seem to kick this C-Diff infection (which causes deadly diarrhea) and where do they get the feces for transplantation?  They have a STOOL BANK!!!  Can you imagine working in a Stool Bank??  “What do you do, Carl?”  “Oh, I work with pieces of shit.”  “Oh Carl, don’t be so derogatory!”  “Uh no, I literally work with shit all day every day.”  “I’m so sorry, Carl.”

 I’m glad I’m not Carl.