Paycheck, Please!

I have one of the shittiest jobs in the world. I bag groceries. I am a sack-stuffing engineer. It sucks, and everyday that I work at that stupid peice of shit (name removed at the threat of lawsuit), is a day I consider a killing spree. Thank God the Chinese will soon destroy us all with their vast numbers and gun-point management tactics.

Today was the worst however, as I was told of a job frontier where people pay you for your ideas based on how old you are. Imagine: all my great ideas brought to life, and I'm getting paid for them. Better than being a bag bitch at that terrible (name removed at the threat of lawsuit); I wonder how many people realize we spit on the produce?

I was talking with my friend "Dumbass", and he was being an asshole as usual; crackin' wise 'bout my job down at (name removed at the threat of lawsuit). I say, "well, what are you doing for work?" I said this in a very insinuating tone, because I knew he had been out of work ever since the DeVry institute accepted him. Contrary to popular belief, their entry exam is pretty hard; you have to figure out how to open a door without any signs indicating whether it is a 'push', or a 'pull' (hint: it's an automatic sliding door).

"Dumbass" started bragging about how he was a consultant at a big-name advertising agency, and that he got paid ungodly amounts of money to sit on his ass and nod one way or the other. Outraged, I screamed loudly, 'I can't believe you do that to twelve-year-olds!'. Needless to say, everyone at the Cinnabon was giving him the stink-eye for the rest of the day. Homo.

As the security guards led us away, I began to think; my career wasn't exactly 'hot'. Maybe I should attend the DeVry institute and get a cushy consulting job. I even wrote down a few ideas to get myself started, which I will now share to you all. Please note that if any of these ideas are stolen from me, I will hunt you, I will find you... and I will kill you. Have you seen Taken yet? Best Liam Neeson role since Qui-Gon Jinn!

1) TOILETS IN DELIVERY ROOMS. This way, if you are giving birth and a retard pops out of your once-beautiful vadge, you can flush that shit and start anew. Hopefully, you will be able to find a guy who likes gross, saggy vaginae.

2) GLASS TOILETS. I love to shit. It's great, and akin to what I imagine giving birth would be like, except socially acceptable. But whenever I shit, I always ask myself, what's on the bottom of my shit? Did I eat any corn yesterday? If I had a glass toilet, I could simply get on my knees and inspect, rather than pick it up out of the bowl and check. This would be especially useful in restaurants; the guys at Bertucci's become total dicks if they catch you handling feces in their bathrooms. To be fair, I was on my break, Julio.

3) LARGE CARDBOARD BOXES. I know what you're thinking: silly Darsh, that's not an invention. A) fuck you for calling me silly, and B) shut up. If we had stores devoted solely to the sale of large cardboard boxes, the corporate world would be a much better place. Having spent a summer as an intern at Brookstone, I should know. When payday comes, and you don't want your sense of self-worth being destroyed by a check for eighty dollars at the end of a forty-hour work week, you need a place to hide. Why not bring your hiding spot with you? Plus, you can use it to prank your fellow employees by writing funny things on the side of the box. Once, I hid in a box for a life-like sex-doll inside the boss's office with the door open, and soon , everyone was calling him a pervert. He now lives the life of a disgraced former millionaire.

4) HOTDOG CONDOMS. We have hotdog-flavored condoms; this is a no-brainer. Plus, hotdogs have a lot more nutrients and protein in them than semen, and I base that on absolutely nothing.

5) ONE BIG RESTAURANT. Tired of trying to find that one 'good' restaurant in a long chain of local greasy spoons? Well, look no further than One Big Restaurant. One Big Restaurant houses all the best parts of a billion tiny restaurants in one big restaurant. The sole location will be located approximately where Montana is. Ever noticed how no one lives in Montana? Yeah, me too. One Big Restaurant will serve only the biggest of meals. I mean, you and your brood are just eating your own portions of essentially the same thing; why not share One Big Burger, weighing in at twenty-six pounds, twenty of which is all Grade C or better cow(?) meat. Enjoy that with One Big Fry: it's as long as a yardstick and as wide as Mike Tyson's fist. One Big Restaurant will also feature One Big Hospital, which will treat all the victims of cardiac arrest. You may be wondering how many heart attacks we expect to have serving this kind of food. We at One Big Restaurant don't like to see it as a couple hundred thousand heart attacks. We see One Big Heart Attack.