This guy's got guts!

I am desperate for a job. Let's just get that out in the open. I'm considering becoming a janitor. I mean, why not? I've cleaned my own toilet. How hard can it be? I would do a lot to have work right now, and I'm not afraid of a little shit on my hands.

However, there are some things that would make me squeamish. Donating body parts, for instance. I've considered selling a kidney. Hey, who hasn't in this tough times? I'd sell part of my liver, but it's had a rough three years in law school. I'm not sure it would bring much on the open market. And it just seems like maybe, no matter how desperate I am, I should try to hold on to some things.

Selling other people’s body parts, though? Now that might just be the line I would not cross. Except... $1.5 million is a lot of money. Not a bad take at all for a couple of lazy afternoons of you, a hacksaw, a couple of corpses and a walk-in cooler. Maybe throw in an episode or two of Dexter for inspiration...

Wook #17: Worst job ever

So, if you have never been to a Phish/Grateful dead/Jamband concert or to California or Madison, WI, you probably don't know what a "Wook" is. A wook is someone who usually has a nappy unwashed head of sloppy unkempt dreadlocks, doesn't shower, doesn't have a real job and likes to walk around the parking lots of concerts or at festivals asking for charity.

If you are a generally hard working person like me, you don't like the idea that someone who chooses (voluntarily) not to work or manage their money should be able to receive free beer, free concert tickets or even a damn grilled cheese sandwhich that someone else busted their butt to pay for. Wooks also enjoy selling stuff in parking lots, which is what I would call their job, but the items sold are usually drugs, which leads them to being arrested, which leads to the wonderful drain on society called: spare changing (spanging) for bail money. The plea of "my dog got taken by the ASPCA and I need $126.78 to get him out" is also a great one. Everyone loves a puppy, and everyone loves someone irresponsible enough to put their pet in a position (probably tied to a car's bumper" that it would be taken by the authorities.

Experts (ok, just me and some people I know) estimate that only about 10% of all pleas by wooks to get their friends/dog out of jail are legitimate, and that the rest are just blatant requests to give the wook money so he/she can continue not to work.

While all of us soon-to-be law grads are spending hours every day looking for work, the wook feels no pressure. He just relies on handouts to get by.

Disgusted yet?

Well, there is one "King of the wooks" known affectionately in jamband circles as Wook #17. This fellow so symbolized the wook culture that he was made a mascot of sorts. He also gave those who found his picture the opportunity to experiment with photoshop. In this post are several variations on the Wook #17 theme. A bunch of his photos are found on the Ween Forum. If you want to become a wook, no education, skills or hygeine is needed. Just stop doing anything responsible with your life and start counting on others to provide for you. (Or you can hope that "Jah" will hook you up with food and shelter.)

Oh, no. You didn't just do that.

Here's a quiz for you. You've just been pulled over for drunk driving. The female cop sits you down on a park bench and turns to prepare the breathalyzer. What do you do?

a) sit quietly
b) make a run for it
c) vomit
d) pass out
e) none of the above

Answer: E. None of the above. No, no, no. You don't do any of the things normal drunk people would do. You're different. You're special. You decide it's the perfect time to "cop" a feel.

As if you weren't in enough trouble already...

The Sweet Smell of Success

So what could be worse than no job? I mean, it's not like being unemployed is really that unusual, right? After all, 9% of the population is unemployed, so there's plenty of company. Well, I'm thinking this job... It's like being a caterer. Only...not so much. It's like being a restaraunteur. Only....not quite. Let's call them "street vendors," even though that has a certain je ne sais quoi quality that I'm not sure is entirely appropriate.

Okay, let's be clear here. You sell hot dogs at a ball park? Good for you. That's an American institution. You sell hot dogs at the summer carnival? Hey, that's a bit of Americana right there. You sell hot dogs at your kids little league game? Parent of the year. You stand on some random street corner peddling tube steak that's been marinating in a vat of who-knows-what for who-knows-how-long? Not so much.

There's something that's not quite right about having to fish bits of mystery meat out of a reeking pot of tepid water on wheels with a pair of tongs while some homeless man stands there waiting with his buck-two-fifty in nickels for his meal of the day.

Now I hear you can actually make good money being a street vendor. You get to stand outside all day and enjoy the weather. You get a pretty umbrella and an apron. Still....your hawking hot dogs to passersby who probably only buy them because they think if they don't, you'll start dealing drugs. And maybe you should. Because if you're selling heroin, you're at least selling something of value that somebody really, really, really wants.

I think I'd rather have my arm shoulder deep in a cow's uterus than be a street vendor. Oh darn, now I spoiled the surprise for my next post...

You must be better than this child abusing jackass

So, this dad in Oregon, WI got arrested after his son wrote a school essay describing the time his father shot him in the butt for blocking the television set.

Check out the full story here.

I would rather be jobless than that guy!

If you haven't turned to huffing paint, you are OK

This guy plead not guilty to huffing gold spray paint.

I believe him.

If you have avoided huffing paint while job hunting, you are doing well. See, it isn't that bad!

Your sex life

If your sex life doesn't consist of parking lot threesomes with two blow up dolls, you are still doing alright. Unlike the Florida man who was caught with two inflatable lovelies and was charged with breach of the peace and tresspassing. I have to wonder if the tresspassing complaint was made by the blow up dolls or by those who witnessed the incident.

Check out this pitiful guy and his story.