Cold blooded, man.
Diane pays DJ twenty five cents every time he kills a bug in the house. Tonight the boy pocketed fiddy-cent for waxing two spiders. Diane says to the kid, "Good job, bug killer." DJ, being all business the way he is says, "I'm not a bug killer. I just do my job. That's my job. Kill."
I'm sleeping with the lights on tonight.
posted by Jason @ 8:36:00 PM
6 comments
6 Comments:
I found a slug on the pourch. I was drunk and not in the murdering mood. Sooooo, I just put a light circle of salt arround said slug thinking he would surely not commit suicide.
I WAS WRONG!!!!
Correct "I was." It really means (I am/was). That was like 5 minutes ago.
Of course he killed himself. Slugs are chronically depressed. Every time a slug sees a snail, it reminds him that he's homeless.
I know.
Shut up, Jason.
Gee, Jason...I don't know whether to apologize or take a bow for helping the kid obtain gainful summer employment---yep, for weeks, now, I've been in cahoots with the Baghdad Spider Federation to have them send spiders over to your place (you guessed it...Iraqnids). Your call...does the lad need more work, or are you scraping the bottom of the buggie bank?
I prohibit, as far as I am able, the killing of spiders in my house. Spiders are the good-guys.
Off subject, "Iraqnids" is too clever to overlook. Made me bark out loud.
I think DJ and Diane better go over the fine print of his contract once more . . . point out the "bug" part of the "killing" section . . .
BTW, tell him that the "just doing my job" line didn't work for the folks at Nuremburg. Then tell him all about WWII and you can both sleep with your lights on!
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