we got a theory about magic...

Dudes! Lady dudes! I got fired! I got fucking fired from my job of three and a half years over the phone for reasons ranging from vague to minor to patently false. I was given no warnings. I’ve never been written up, I’ve never been complained about by a customer. No complaints have ever been lodged in my direction by ANYONE. Yet here I am. At home. Not going to work. I have no job. I’m a jobless shitsack like the rest of you (us) now, and frankly, I’m a little flabbergasted. I mean, for fucks sake, I’ve got a kid on the way in less than a month. I’m Federlining over here. “Yipes” is a bit of an understatement. But well…yipes.

So, in my downtime during these last fifteen hours of unemployment, I’ve taken to sitting on the couch, listlessly surfing the internet and drinking gin out of an old boot. Know what I discovered? I discovered “Miracles” by the Insane Clown Posse. And you know what? It’s great! It’s everything I need right now! Thank you ICP for the miracle of your song “Miracles!” It’s coming to me in my time of need, not unlike the Sapphic kiss of a pair of horny male angels as beamed through sunlight or some such magic, or ‘miracle,’ to borrow a turn of phrase from S2D and VJ.

Ok. Let’s discuss the elephant in the room then. Sure, I make fun of Juggalos and ICP and the whole thing. Or, a better way to say this would be that I DID. That is, my former, employed self made fun of them. But now that I’ve got some free time, I see what they’re all about. Faygo, hatchets, extra gravy. These are the things that unemployed people like me can relate to. It turns out that I was just too BUSY to be a Juggalo before. But now, something in that vaguely out of tune/time, completely out of touch rapping seems to hit me so much more viscerally. It’s like I said to myself this morning: “Yo, B-Murder! If you wanna paint your dome up like some kinda psychopathic clown today ain’t no one that can tell you you can’t, so may as well. Plus, you got time.” So I did.

That’s right, as I type this, I’m eating a deep fried ribeye steak wrapped in bacon and sandwiched between two ice cream sandwiches, face fully resplendent in my new white and black visage, listening to “Miracles” on repeat and wondering at how Violent J knows to ask the difficult and eternal unanswerables in a human and yet simultaneously profound way.

“Fuckin’ magnets-How do they work?” I was just thinking that, VJ. You took the question right from the ether of my cerebral cortex and using your lyrical loom seamlessly wove it into a magnificent stream of praise for everything from rain to Juggalos. Quite a feat. One I may have been tempted to make fun of yesterday, before I became unemployed. But now, today, sheeeeit ninja! How the fuck DO magnets work? That’s all I wanna know. Save it scientists! I ain’t interested in your molecules and man-comin’-from-monkeys bullshit explanations neither! Uh!

On the real though, I’m fired. I mean, I was out of town for two weeks and I got all my shifts covered and there were no problems that resulted from my being gone, and I get a phone call last night telling me not to bother coming back. This chickenshit of a manager that did it also attempted to phrase my termination as some sort of benevolent confidence offering to me in the form of “I think you’re meant to do bigger and better things than this.” To which, my response, were I to have even engaged this mongaloid in any sort of back and forth, would have been “yeah, I know. That’s why I work here. To have a flexible schedule and still have enough money coming in to PAY MY FUCKING BILLS YOU ASSHOLE!”

But whatever. That’s all behind me now. I’ve got my juggalo family, my BSC family, my socks, the other more radical splinter cell socks, my ever expanding brood of children, my many wives, my illegitimate sons, my secret internet Russian mail order girlfriends, and of course Colonel Sanders, who’s always there to make even the hardest times a little easier.

Okay, I’m gonna go lay in the bathtub and cry with the lights out while I pour Faygo brand “redpop” over my head, face and stomach.

See you all in hell.

xoxoxoxox