A PSA About Lazy Crackers

the term "lazy cracker" may seem down right offensive, racist, paradoxal and even rude.

excellent, i'm on the right track.

we all have "co-workers" who lack the "worker" part of this title. it's a sad, depressing thought that, with the unemployment rate being as high as it currently is, people who DO get hired misuse their good fortune. i can speak from experience when i say that when you FINALLY get a job after being out of work it is one of the greatest moments you can have.

sarcasm, witty remarks, misanthropy aside: i love having a purpose and a paying job.

kill yourself if you disagree, as you are probably a lazy fucking cracker. thug life.

this PSA is about the worst kind of crackers (those of you lacking hood sense, thats a white person).

LAZY ASS CRACKERS:

(The Egg-Shell Colored Cock-Sucking Bastard)

this pastey fuck is the kind of person that makes me understand why black people will keep finding ways to stay as far away from being in the same social range as white people.

thats right kid, i under-motherfucking-stand you, like whoa.

so, let me make it rain on them ho's!

so while i am at work, sweating profusely in a rage to get my shit done right the first time, my "co-worker" who i will anti-promote by re-naming him "Derh", constantly finds new and exciting ways to ditch the majority of his work load on my back.

what a mega-zord sized douche-nozzle this "Derh" is shaping up to be, right?

so, like a fairly good worker, i keep my earbuds in with my head in the game and i get my fucking shit done. i have been at the same job for about 7 years and i have out-worked, out-survived and definately out-thought more than 50+ ex-employees. keep in mind that includes regional rep's, several managers, and a seemingly endless amount of other hourly workers.

YOU WILL NOT TAKE ME OUT.

today was no exception to what "Derh" does best: fuck off and collect a check for doing as little as possible. i know for a fact that i did LITERALLY* twice as much work as good ole' "Derh" could muster out of his fraile, bird-like walking sperm receptical that is known as his body. what a fucking cunt.

(twice as much literally is: i cleaned 22 cars and he cleaned 11 cars, in same amount of time)*

well, i managed to get my shit done and i didn't even slash his tires, his throat, his dog's chest or his mom's baby making tubes. she already gave birth to him: an over-sized, walking, zombie fetus. however, out of the constant migraines this poster child for anal sex has given me, i have been writing better and better stuff (poetry, lyrics, snarks, etc.) and i have a new one i want to share with ALL of you.

When asked what I think when the name of my 'co-worker' comes up I can only muster a single hateful phrase:

"I loathe your horrid parents. Your have the information retention capacity of a broken condom."

Enjoi.

Dax I. Rose