YOU CAN’T PUMP YOUR OWN GAS
Excuse me…but I am a grown-ass man! Why do I need some fuckin’ grade school drop-out to pump my gas for me? See, in California, where I’m from, you park at the pump, and walk up to the clerk in the bullet-proof box. You pay him/her/it and then you just pump your gas and go. That’s it. Done.
But here in Oregon, I’m always waiting around for some pud to finally get around to my car. It’s times like that when I wish I was a public nuisance or something. What I’m saying is, this whole system seems ripe for crime and mischief. Here’s
some an idea s for how to fuck with these jerk-offs:
• Pull up with no pants! -Wear a nice business suit with a tie, but from the waist down: bare wiener.
Now, don’t get the wrong idea and start doing something nasty, you know. Don’t do anything that might make Jesus or Rick Santorum cry. Just a flaccid, hairy reminder of how much their job sucks. They won’t believe that some asshole would actually pull in and pull it out. Later, when the cops are arresting you, just tell them you’re starting a new fashion trend called “The Full-Body Mullet”. Business up top, party downstairs! And you’re all invited!