Randominatrix

My latest mania-fueled scheme to make a million dollars and retire next week is relatively tame. It’s less grueling than writing the next super-hit book series for girls with tender new breasts. And simpler than a grave robbing service for lazy necrophiliacs. And a little less delusional than Fuck-the-Homeless-for-Cash-Fest 2008, which I still think would have worked if I could’ve gotten more powerful celebrity endorsements. Nobody gives a damn about Gary Busey anymore. Anyway, this week I’m selling shit on Craig’s List.

It sounds perfect. I have shit. Some people want shit and are dumb enough to pay money for my shit. I get the money, they get the shit. I win twice. I just didn’t count on all the fucking drama. Spam bots, phishing (which I used to think was when you got high with some guy named Trey and woke up with a bleeding asshole), and this guy who wants to buy my jewelry so he can shove it down his cock. And all these bitches who want pictures. Listen, you thick cunt, if this shit was pretty, I wouldn’t be hawking it on fucking Craig’s List.

But there is one benefit to surfing the asspit that is CL. And that is the whores. There are bbw escorts, single moms who will clean your house naked, co-eds selling their panties… I even saw an ad for a pro domme. These women are like disposable razors! Spend a little money – but not nearly enough for a quality product you don’t have to hide under the newspaper to preserve your dignity – use once, and pitch. They’re not supposed to be selling sex, so you could probably poke at the brown starfish whether they want you to or not. What’re they gonna do? File a police report? “It was horrible, officer! I was being a whore, when this John tried to shoot his baby batter up my nugget chute!”  Well, you’d better get used to it, because prison won’t be kind to your puffy, prolapsed anus either.

Seriously. With all the shit that happens to whores, why do women still check that box at the job fair? My theory: suicide by hooking. For whatever reason, these career cocksuckers want to die. And they choose a profession that will make that happen, one way or another. Drugs, drive-bys, angry pimps, violent psych-ward escapees with Thorazine-induced priapism… they’re spoiled for choice. If they’re lucky, their mangled twat skin ends up in a serial killer’s trophy room. And if she wants to die, and you just bought a case of the herpes and don’t have your wallet on you, you can just kill her and get the herpes for free. With that kind of a deal, you can’t afford not to shiv a hooker!

To that end, I will be trawling the dank corridors of Craig’s List on into the night, seeking my special someone. MWF seeks disgusting, foetid trollop whose idea of adding lubricant is popping a boil. Must stink like cat piss and have stretch marks that actually spell words. Ladies who are not morbidly obese or meth-thin need not apply. Knowing a guy who knows a guy who will buy all the shit I just listed for twice the asking price a definite plus.