soulless_npc
ángeles y demonios
- Joined
- Jan 24, 2023
- Posts
- 3,088
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I have a connection which may be able to procure me gainful employment in a warehouse. I have worked in a warehouse before, making $19+ USD an hour with frequent overtime, which is time and a half. The job consisted of operating an electric pallet jack and stacking items on pallets, and moving items from one locale to another. It was physically arduous but a good workout, you burn thousands of calories a day, although working in warehouses is undeniably a looksmin, at least if you want to remain pretty.
Nevertheless, we all know females don't fuck with no broke bitches, so if I am offered the job it is my duty to accept and be miserable once more. It's too bad I can't just sell drugs or nudes, or be a famous influencer, but I'm a man of honor. Some of us were made to be beautiful and fornicate and re-populate the earth, some of us were made to be workhorses to grow old and suffer and die while labouring away like some third world slave, whilst being looked down upon by Stacy, who is on that Onlyfans hustle and make more money in a day than I will make in a week.
To her, I am an untouchable, from a lower caste, a man who has to actually get dirty and sweaty and smelly in order to make money appear. What a preoposterous idea that I can't simply yap from my pretty face into a camera, and get paid by the unwashed brainless heathens to do so. I have no clout nor relevance, no abilities that set me apart from the herd apart from my physical prowess and ability to move items from one locale to another. You spend your day at work checking your phone to see what time it is, literally running toward your own death, as that is what life becomes when you are doing nothing more but wishing time would pass. You get your wish. Soon the hours become days, the weeks become months, and the months become years, and before you know it you have greys starting in your hair and you're just another oldhead loser who couldn't make it big.
Life's a bitch, and then you die.
Nevertheless, we all know females don't fuck with no broke bitches, so if I am offered the job it is my duty to accept and be miserable once more. It's too bad I can't just sell drugs or nudes, or be a famous influencer, but I'm a man of honor. Some of us were made to be beautiful and fornicate and re-populate the earth, some of us were made to be workhorses to grow old and suffer and die while labouring away like some third world slave, whilst being looked down upon by Stacy, who is on that Onlyfans hustle and make more money in a day than I will make in a week.
To her, I am an untouchable, from a lower caste, a man who has to actually get dirty and sweaty and smelly in order to make money appear. What a preoposterous idea that I can't simply yap from my pretty face into a camera, and get paid by the unwashed brainless heathens to do so. I have no clout nor relevance, no abilities that set me apart from the herd apart from my physical prowess and ability to move items from one locale to another. You spend your day at work checking your phone to see what time it is, literally running toward your own death, as that is what life becomes when you are doing nothing more but wishing time would pass. You get your wish. Soon the hours become days, the weeks become months, and the months become years, and before you know it you have greys starting in your hair and you're just another oldhead loser who couldn't make it big.
Life's a bitch, and then you die.
