Hey everybody, Chad here, sorry I haven’t written in a while. I had this phony worker’s comp claim going and my crooked, Jew lawyer told me it wasn’t a good idea to be posting blogs if I was gonna say I couldn’t work cuz of my carpal tunnel. Anyway, some shithead ratted me out and now that I’m not getting any more free money, I’m back here on Eric’s blog to bring the occasional bright spot to this douchebag’s otherwise dreary collection of anecdotes.
In case you didn’t know, I hate working. I’ve always hated working, which brings me to the subject of today’s lesson. Back when I was 24, my scam was entering sweepstakes. I had recently gotten fired from this job I had at IBM after only a few days because I “padded” my resume a little bit and said I knew how to work with computers. Well, I kept my key card and what I would do is sneak back in there, late at night and use their bulk mail stamp machine to send out tens of thousands of sweepstakes entries for free. It didn’t cost me a dime cuz I had also stolen all the envelopes and paper and pens too.
Normally, I’d just win little crap here and there; gift certificates, lame-ass 3 day cruises, stuff like that, but I did hit it big once. I won the “Always Stay-Free Maxi Plus Carly Simon is My Mom For-A-Week Sweepstakes”. I was stoked even though I didn’t know who the hell this broad was, but then someone showed me one of her records and she looked hot.
Well unfortunately for ol’ Chad Robuckle, here, the album I was shown was from 1971 or something cuz this bitch was old! She opens the door and my jaw drops down to the floor, landing right next to her boobs.
I make nice for a while but she seems pretty pissed off that I don’t know any of her music. Give me a break, I’m not a hundred years old, right? She’s naming off these songs and I’m looking at her with a blank look, it was pretty funny. So to be nice and mostly get her off my fucking back, I pretend like I’ve heard of a few. “Oh yeah, that one about that guy, that was good,” I said. I think she sang backup for Beethoven or someone, I’m not sure.
Well that didn’t work for very long because then she starts hassling me about putting my shoes on her couch or something. I told her, “Lady, this contest is a joke, you’re not really my mom so stop giving me static. If you want to do some mom-stuff, go make me a sandwich.”
So next thing I know, she’s on the phone with her manager or the tampon company or something telling them that I’m being incredibly rude and she wants me removed from her home and whatnot. Oh yeah, I had also called her a “stupid cunt”, I forgot that part.
Unfortunately for her, she had signed some contract that made her legally bound to let me stay. Boy was she pissed! I was actually gonna leave anyway, cuz it was so boring, but once I heard her on the phone talking shit about me, I made it my mission to piss her off.
I figured, I’m supposed to be her son, so why not act like it? What do kids do? They breastfeed. Surprise, surprise, she wasn’t down for that. Those milk sacks dried up 50 years ago, anyway, I know that. I was just busting her balls.
No matter how funny my antics were to a normal person, this stuck-up whore just couldn’t appreciate them. I can understand her being sore when I let her dog out and it got run over but how was I supposed to know it wasn’t allowed to go outside? It kept yappin’ so I figured it wanted to go out and play. Seems like a fair assessment of the situation, no? I’m not used to living in New York City where there’s cars everywhere. Jeez, you’d think she’d give me a break.
And I also don’t blame her for being mad when I took those pictures of her taking a dump. Oh wait, she wasn’t mad cuz she doesn’t know about that. Never mind.
But what I can’t understand is how when someone wins a contest where they get to pretend that you’re their mother, you get mad at them for doing normal kid things. Normal kid things like shitting yourself while lying on a $15,000 couch because you’re too lazy to get up and besides, you’re watching TV and you don’t want to miss anything. Kids shit themselves all the time. If you’re going to have a child, don’t go and blow 15 grand on a couch. It’s just common sense that you should furnish your house in a more kid-friendly manner.
Here I am, trying to watch Access Hollywood and she’s yelling at me, saying I ruined her couch and her life. I told her that if she spent less time yelling and more time cleaning me up like someone with decent parenting skills would do, then her couch would still be ruined, but I would feel a whole lot more comfortable. Plus I could finish watching my show.
I guess this struck a nerve with her or something, cuz she totally stopped yelling and sat down on the couch next to me and started sobbing. I wasn’t really sure what to do in that situation so I turned the volume up and pretended not to notice. Soon it was no use, as she started hugging me and shit.
“Thank you, thank you so much, Chad Robuckle!” This was probably the last thing I expected her to say to me.
It turns out, she had a lot of guilt about being on the road when her kids were little or something, I wasn’t really paying attention. There was definitely something in there about me opening up her eyes about being too materialistic… I don’t know, it was all a bunch of garbage.
If this was all just a big trick to get me to leave, it worked. When she went in the kitchen to get us some wine so we could talk some more about her problems, I made a run for it, only realizing once I got to the elevator that I was still wearing the pants I had just soiled myself in, half an hour earlier. But I wasn’t gonna go back in there and to be honest, I’ve done worse things in my life than walk a few blocks in some shit-stained trousers.
So I got home, changed my pants, unplugged the phone and wondered what the hell was up with women, anyways? Here I had been a total dick to this old bag and she was acting like she was in love with me. Go figure.
And if anybody needs any tampons, my whole bedroom closet is filled with them, so just come over and grab a few cases, if you want.