Dear Murray:
I’m so fed up with my job. The company I work for is the most boring company on the face of the Earth. We make books for real estate appraisers. Real boring shit. Some of the people around here get excited about this shit, and it makes me just want to shit in the coffeemaker. When I first got this job, I was just happy to be employed. Not too long ago, our company was sold, and I got a good chunk of money out of the deal. This morning, though, my girlfriend came in to work with me so she could use the phone in my office, and I got in trouble with one of the higher ups. They said it was a “security issue.” Should I just walk out of this place, or start looking for a new job, or just suck it up and be happy to be employed right now?
-Disgruntled worker
Damn, this is exactly the kind of big brotha motherfuckin bullshit I try to avoid in my life. Mothafuckas think that because they give you a paycheck they got every right to be in your business.
Yes, a paycheck is a little difficult to come by in the Bush regime, but mothafuck. What next? They gonna start following you around with a piss cup? Shit, I once went to apply for a fuckin job working at a Village Pantry fucking convenience store and they wanted me to piss in a cup. You can’t sell smokes and scratch’em lotto tickets if you’re takin’ the pot!
I’m about to go absolute apeshit today. There are fewer and fewer areas of life that are safe from our motherfuckin’ government and/or motherfuckin employers digging into. It makes me wanna find some company that monitors your internet usage and start browsing on how to build pipebombs and how to kidnap your boss for ransom and shit.
Why do we stand back and take this shit? Why do we motherfuckin say “sure, i’ll piss in your cup!”???? Are we this fuckin’ desperate for money?
I’ll piss in your motherfuckin candy dish motherfucker! Shitdamn motherfucka. This shit is bursting a vessel in my forehead. Quit those motherfuckas a.s.a.p. Walk the fuck out if you gotta. Otherwise, you’re just perpetuating the constant bullshit from the MAN.
Now leave me the fuck alone.
Categories: Uncategorized
Dear Murray
Dear Murray a tasty, tasty bitch beloved and feared by hordes of basement-dwelling illiterati and their fierce antagonists, the Grammar Nazis. He single-handedly turned the webcam whorefest of Myspace into a lively commerce of ideas, including whether or not the TUBGIRL photo will ever be topped as a postmodern expression of the inexpressible. According to web historians, he has inspired more photoshop projects and syphilis jokes than Britney Spears (who he has been repeatedly linked romantically to). He is also rumoured to be the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby, a disciple of Cliff Yablonski, and the second gunman on the grassy knoll. Although he could not be reached for comment, he reportedly resides in or near the tent cities along the LA River Basin, third right after the walrus sunning station.
He has vehemently denied all charges that he is any any way responsible for that rash your wife claims "is from the heat".
His primary function is doling out advice; the inspiration sprang from an endless and eventually dull repetition of fucktards failed to heed his words.
A secondary result is a dysfunctional family "round table" of people who contribute innumerable one-liners and personal experiences, rarely related in any way to the actual question.
It is estimated that tens of thousands of readers have "LOL'd" approximately 5,395,645,694,167,467,105 times, with the toll expected to rise.
He is immune to kryptonite, chlamydia, and brainwashing.
Wikipedia has banned PENCILTITS's entry, debating the relevance of his tasty bitchiness.