Tags: Westside, joot balls, stingers, security, security guard, security officer, career counsellor, veterans shelter, homeless, homeless veterans, homefuls, Terminal Island Federal Prison, comic sans, font, dillwads, mcjob, tattoo gun, San Pedro, factotum, jarvis, marquisdejolie, Revver, viral video, internet video, Hollywood, Bukowski, felon, prison slang, sockograms, lardass, sleeping on duty, officer, TSA, homeland security
Got a job today. Security guard. Or as I like to call it, 'See-squirelly yob'.
I got it in spite of my Westside Veterans Homeless Shelter career counsellor. Maybe I got it TO spite my Westside Veterans Homeless Shelter career counsellor, who was too busy trying to teach me how to create butt-ugly ComicSans-fonted resumes to find me a yob.
I just made a couple of phone calls and got hired over the phone on the second call. Seems Los Angeles security guard companies are desperately seeking dillwads who speak English and already know how to use a phone.
Came back from getting my See-squirelly uniform and hung out at the retard benches in the shelter commons to listen to the ex-cons talking about the good old days in the joint; Terminal Island Federal Prison.
They talked about food processing a lot, about stingers and joot balls and how to make a two-hour cookstove out of a single roll of toilet paper.
They talked about cigarettes a lot, about how to manufacture cigarettes out of dried spinach, how to light one without matches or lighters or any open flame whatsoever (electrical sockets and pencil leads), about crutches and sockograms and $10 butts and how to store a whole pack of (nonfiltered) cigarettes up your ass and all kinds of ingenious ways to smoke cigarettes in small, unvented prison cells without getting caught ( getting caught was thirty days in the hole ).
In fact, it seemed to me from what these ex-cons were saying, that a prison inmate spends most of his waking day in prison figuring out how to smoke cigarettes through his socks and snack on electrocuted contraband.
No wonder there's no time for rehabilitation on a 20-year sentence. Did you know that you can make a quality tattoo gun from a cheap $10 cassette player?
The federal guys get a much better deal than the state prisoners, though, especially on the food. The guy I was talking to today says Terminal Island in San Pedro was much nicer than the vets dorm we're in. MUCH nicer.
He misses it . . . even thought about robbing a mail truck to get back in.
Well, hell. Since I have no skills according to my Westside Veterans Shelter career counsellor (no shit, the lardass career counsellor who's I.Q. couldn't be a percentage point more than HALF of mine told ME I had 'no workable skills'), I may as well learn how to pick locks and crack safes while I'm here at the vets dorm.
THEN I'd have job skills my career counsellor could understand.
I got it in spite of my Westside Veterans Homeless Shelter career counsellor. Maybe I got it TO spite my Westside Veterans Homeless Shelter career counsellor, who was too busy trying to teach me how to create butt-ugly ComicSans-fonted resumes to find me a yob.
I just made a couple of phone calls and got hired over the phone on the second call. Seems Los Angeles security guard companies are desperately seeking dillwads who speak English and already know how to use a phone.
Came back from getting my See-squirelly uniform and hung out at the retard benches in the shelter commons to listen to the ex-cons talking about the good old days in the joint; Terminal Island Federal Prison.
They talked about food processing a lot, about stingers and joot balls and how to make a two-hour cookstove out of a single roll of toilet paper.
They talked about cigarettes a lot, about how to manufacture cigarettes out of dried spinach, how to light one without matches or lighters or any open flame whatsoever (electrical sockets and pencil leads), about crutches and sockograms and $10 butts and how to store a whole pack of (nonfiltered) cigarettes up your ass and all kinds of ingenious ways to smoke cigarettes in small, unvented prison cells without getting caught ( getting caught was thirty days in the hole ).
In fact, it seemed to me from what these ex-cons were saying, that a prison inmate spends most of his waking day in prison figuring out how to smoke cigarettes through his socks and snack on electrocuted contraband.
No wonder there's no time for rehabilitation on a 20-year sentence. Did you know that you can make a quality tattoo gun from a cheap $10 cassette player?
The federal guys get a much better deal than the state prisoners, though, especially on the food. The guy I was talking to today says Terminal Island in San Pedro was much nicer than the vets dorm we're in. MUCH nicer.
He misses it . . . even thought about robbing a mail truck to get back in.
Well, hell. Since I have no skills according to my Westside Veterans Shelter career counsellor (no shit, the lardass career counsellor who's I.Q. couldn't be a percentage point more than HALF of mine told ME I had 'no workable skills'), I may as well learn how to pick locks and crack safes while I'm here at the vets dorm.
THEN I'd have job skills my career counsellor could understand.
No comments:
Post a Comment