For some reason I still can't find a job. Nowhere.
This city, is so full of places needing work, and places to spend said cash, that how could I not find work somewhere? Unreal. I can't make donuts for our local officers of the law, I can't make pizzas for our local cheap people, and I also can't even slice deli meats.
I know the knife is sharp, but may I remind you it's attached to a counter.
I can't even stock Wal-Mart trucks. What is that? I'm being shunned by Mr. Sam Walton? The man whom I've been nothing if not loyal to whenever I head off to a store in search of everyday low prices.
Oh, America. Land of the Half-A-Grand-Phone. How I long to operate your touch screen with my tongue. You know Gene Simmons probably thinks of that.
Oh. I'm sorry to report to you all, that Sir Bono on the Fake Steve blog, wasn't even a Fake Bono. As FSJ tells it, it wasn't even him or even still, it wasn't authorized by him. I love Bono as much as the next Irishman, but holy Jesus. Don't be him. There is one Bono. One Oprah, one Tom Cruise, one Dave Thomas, one Bono. Not two, not a mini-Bono, not a Bono-clone, not Bono Jr.
As exciting as a dual-Bono tour may be... Could you imagine that? It's like two Lynyrd Skynyrds going on tour with the same name.
Wait. They did that already? Crap.