My Job Is Fucking Unbelievable...

...I'll try to sum it up by first telling you about my colleagues:

First, there is this supermodel wanna-be chick. Yeah, okay, she is pretty hot, but damn is she completely useless. The girl is forever fixing her hair or putting on more make-up. She is extremely self-centred and has never once considered the needs or wants of anyone but herself. She is as dumb as a box of rocks, and I constantly find it surprising that she has enough brain power to continue to breathe unaided.

The next chick is completely the opposite. She might even be one of the smartest people on the planet. Her career opportunities are endless, and yet, here she is with us. However, on the hotness scale, she is unfortunately, a zero out of 10. I'm not sure she even showers, much less shaves her "womanly" parts & she dresses like she got lost in an 80's charity sale. I think she might be a lesbian, because every time we drive by the hardware store she moans like a cat in heat.

But the jewel in the crown has got to be the fucking stoner guy. And this chap is more than just your average pothead. He is always baked; before he comes to work, definitely during work, and I'm pretty sure after work too. He probably hasn't been sober any time in the last ten years, and he's only 22. He dresses like a beatnik throwback from the 60's, with this ridiculous hair that surely hasn't been brushed in months, and to make things worse, he brings his big fucking dog to work.

Every fucking day I have to look at this huge, dumb Great Dane walking around half-stoned from the toker's second-hand smoke. Hell, sometimes I even think it's trying to talk with its constant bellowing. Also, both of them are always constantly hungry, requiring multiple stops for fast-food snacks, every single fucking day. Like i said, it's fucking unbelievable.

Anyway, about my actual job, I drive these fucktards around in my flowery van and we solve mysteries and shit.