`The man in the van has sworn off all mcdonalds food. No more! He found himself vomiting in the backyard last night. What came up? A Mcdonalds milkshake, some indian food (probably rancid) a ham sandwich, a license plate. He's like a shark. You can tell where he lives by what he throws up. Awful.
Then the sweating and stomach pain. DIdn't think I'd go to work. But I made it and struggled through some bikes. It was slave labor. No music except the christmas musak. At first I called myself a christmas elf. No. THat was too kind. I'm Santa's nigger. That's more accurate. I'm his bitch. I build the shitty bikes for him. I gotta get a picture of the sticker on the side of this girl's bike that says "Fashion Rules" I almost lost my shit when I saw that. What awful propaganda to put on a bike for a little girl. Jesus! Fashion Rules? Where? In Hell? Fuck Target. Don't buy anything from that chinese import agency. All they sell is chinese shit. And every mistake that a chinese slave makes ends up costing this nigger money. Have some balls America! Stop buying exported chinese junk! Stop it! It's destroying everything. Fashion RUles? SOme chinese girl is slapping that sticker on these bikes and I end up assembling them. God damn it! Fashion rules? $70 for a day of assembling that piece of shit. And it ends up polluting the world with it's crappy slogans and shitty workmanship. It's a piece of junk.
That's all.
Days without Mcdonalds: 1
