By CHRIS PACKHAM
I'm bragging. You'd brag, too, if you were the Plog Employee of the Month. But some of us are winners, and you know what they say about the cream always rising? They say it always rises.
They were supposed to pick somebody at the beginning of the month, but Faysal got busy with payroll and forgot. You know that hallway at Target that leads past the customer service desk, the employee break room and the restrooms, which is covered with framed pictures of smiling employees of the month? We've got that here, too, and now yours truly gazes out smugly at every fucker walking down to the lav with the sports section tucked under his arm. Or with the Vaginal Beauty section tucked under her arm. Whichever.I get to use the primo parking space everyone's always arguing over, right out by the dumpster, through the end of the month. Unfortunately, my girlfriend drives the car, so I don't usually get to park there. But I set up my folding chair and a cooler of Bartles and Jaymes every afternoon in my spot and wave at my co-workers with my big foam #1 finger and call them names. I hope August never ends.
After the jump, two big reasons why Plog shift supervisor Faysal Alkhaiwani decided I was ze best: My Photoshopping, and my heart full of hate. Click here, or click on the latest addition to my expanding wall of certified accomplishments:
Your papers, please: Five men in Kansas City were indicted for conspiracy after conspiratorially conspiring to "use fraudulent diplomatic credentials." According to the story, they were more like making fake IDs, maybe for underage kids who were trying to establish diplomatic relationships with countries that have no minimum drinking age. For $1,500 apiece! I had no idea that the appearance of diplomatic immunity came so cheaply.
At any rate, if making fake IDs constitutes "conspiracy," then the contents of my wallet are admissible evidence. Look, everyone cuts corners — sometimes, bureaucratic entanglements resolve more quickly if you're able to falsely represent yourself as a certified midwife. And it's not like I'm going to get my hands wet by actually training as a midwife. At any rate, I took stock of the many forms of false ID I've accumulated over the years by dumping everything in my wallet on the bed of my scanner:
It's just a jump to the left, and then a bullet in my skull: The senior citizens who remember their first screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, an unfunny, non-shocking pseudo-transgressive musical originally staged during the Taft administration, can now bask in the temporary solace of nostalgia as the Screenland Crossroads is playing the film on the third Saturday of every month. I'm not sure that sums up how thoroughly I hate The Rocky Horror Picture Show and everything associated with it.
The film even comes with scripted audience responses, which are like little training wheels for the embarrassing, attention-hungry olds who like shouting rejoinders at the screen but can't think of anything funny or interesting on their own. As this article in The Kansas City Star points out, when the film was released in 1975 (!!!), it was a box-office failure. Because that's what happens to horrible movies. Only, unlike the fucking Rocky fucking Horror fucking Picture fucking Show, Dane Cook's upcoming douche-com My Best Friend's Girl will flame out and politely disappear forever without an entire ensuing generation of cult worship by unimaginative "fringe dwellers."
And don't even try telling me that the "edgy" sexual nature of the movie was offensive to the easily shocked film critics of the 1970s, because the ones who hadn't served in Vietnam had probably served in Korea, and it's going to take more than cross-dressing vamps and horrible puns like "Frank N. Furter" to shock guys who have probably seen Asian soldiers rip their buddys' entrails out with bayonets made of bamboo. It's seriously time for every disgusting old fatty who still dresses up in a Tim Curry bustier to please finally move on dot org slash kill yourself.
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To be an employee, would that require that you are being paid?
WAIT!
No way The Pitch actually pays you?!?!? I thought they won you in a gameshow.
Also, that ID indicates your weight as 185. I presume this is for a metric-loving country where weight is in kilograms?
Chris,
That should be "...rip their buddies� entrails out with bayonets made of shit smeared bamboo."
Thank you.
p.s. - if you sit very, very still and narrow your focus, you can watch Rocky Horror and only see a half dressed Susan Sarandon doing something with her mouth a lot.
But I guess, as Plog Employee of the Month, The Pitch has the girls from bazookas come by your little picnic area/parking spot daily and shake their mammalian protuberances in your face, eh?
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