I quit my job at Dairy Queen last night, which is okay with me in the end, cause it was pretty shitty. They asked me to clean out some fucking garbage thing at the back and I got the new kid to do it instead, which I thought was delegating and showed leadership. My boss didn’t agree.

In addition, I had been pretty much showing up late everyday for the last month, reeking of booze most of the time. I would sit in the back alley talking on my cell phone while the manager was out in his car getting blowjobs from the jailbait girls who stop in to get Blizzards. Free ice cream goes a long way. It had gotten to the point where I couldn’t have possibly stole more shit or fucked up things anymore then I already had. The only upsetting thing is that I had developed an excellent way to skim off the top from the cash register, which made the job, shitty as it was, pretty fucking lucrative on a good day.

Still I think I’m getting a bit to old for that gig anyways. All good things some to and end I guess and there comes a time when you know you have to let the past go, move on and live in the present. Kind of like Madonna here, who needs to realize that she is not fucking 18 anymore and that she is, in fact, a borderline senior citizen.

hugs and kisses
Marie-Eve Martinez

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