From deep, deep in the cotton-pickin' red clay'd piney woods o' east Texas, I bring you the tales of my sister Bethzilla, hideous freakin' white trash welfare-cheatin' pill-popping, bowl-smoking, vodka-swilling redneck swamp thing what done crawled up out of the danged boggy bottoms of Uncertain, Texas and also of Momma, a transplanted, dirt-floored, rice paddy, hand-raised Cajun girl from the south Texas depression era. Take a look see. Go ahead, lookee.
Doubt whom you will, but never yourself
For some reason, hanging out in the Torrance, California Labor Ready hall four or five hours a day gives me the feeling that I've been hanging out at anarchist meetings. My brethren of the holy jeans are a mixture of old military veterans America doesn't give a crap about and twenty-something kids who are dumb as boiling mud.
So after hanging out in the hall all morning and not getting any minimum wage work, I popped into a print shop in Inglewood and made a quick $90 for 45 minutes of Photoshop work and then ran up to the Sprint offices (pun intended) to pay my cell phone bill. Ahhhhhhhh. I'm a communications mobile homeless bum again.
I took a nap this afternoon and then when I went over to the Arco (which won't hire me because they think I'm white), they were so short-handed and behind in their work that they paid me a large pizza, two quarts of soda and a pack of cigarettes for a little light beverage stocking.
Back in San Antonio when I was a Mr. M convenience store manager, my store was one of the top producing stores in the city. I regularly got efficiency bonuses and store manager of the month awards . . . but I can't get hired as a simple cashier at the Arco because the Mediterranean owner apparently thinks white people are . . .uh . . . I don't know . . . ambitious? That's a rotten thing to think about ME.
The Gypsy, a Hungarian callgirl I occasionally drive for the Pacific Coast Entertainment Escort Agency, says I should start my own religion. There's more money in whacky religion in Los Angeles than there is in sex, she says. Hmm. The Church of Jolie, a Jolietharian way of life. I like that.