Badass Summer Jobs Your Dumbass Kids Won't Appreciate

Badass Summer Jobs Your Dumbass Kids Won't Appreciate (37230 hits)
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Submitted by Steve's House of KILL ALL HUMANS Pancakes (View user info) at 2005-06-27 21:45:45

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As a doctor of journalism, I've never had to work a real day in my life. The most I've had to do is bike to the Subway for lunch. I considered it danger pay because I had to ride across train tracks, while balancing a slurpee on my handlebars. If I was hit by a train, it would spill and I'd be pissed. And dead. And I'd have no slurpee.

All my jobs have been in offices. Occasionally I have to stand in a field and watch chicks play softball or sit in an ice-cold arena and watch dudes play hockey, but those are sacrifices I'm willing to make for two hours of real work a day. Even that 'real work' is just to copy and paste shit off the Internet, or type up a press release. Some one stole a lawn mower a month ago...this is important shit! Once, I had to ride my bike to a retirement party for a dude at a nursing home. It was raining. All I had to do was walk in, take a picture, and stay dry for a half an hour. And I got free cake. And a free garbage bag so I wouldn't get wet on my way back to my office.

I tried to use it as a sail and ended up in a ditch, covered in mud.

But I got the shot.

It ended up on the back page and I ruined my pants, but at least I got free cake. It was a little dry and an old person probably made it with her elephant skin hands that were dripping with vanilla hand lotion, but it was still free.

Most of my work ethic revolves around getting cake. That's a norm for journalists. You want media people to come to your dinky store opening? Give out free cake. And coffee. And hookers.

Kids should have to do real work over the summer. It hardens up the bones. My bones are so brittle that I think I broke my hand turning my steering wheel this afternoon when I was driving to the 7/11. Luckily, all the slurpee syrup in my blood knit the bones back together and I can still type and masturbate at the same time.

Those kids working at McDonalds need to be picking weeds or rocks or digging mines or something. If you do hard, manual labour when you're a kid it toughens you up for the real world. The service industry will just make you want to kill everyone and everything. Working outdoors only builds contempt for nature. Everything will seem so much easier compared to digging a ditch in the blazing sun for eight hours, only to fill the ditch with water the next day and watch the ditch collapse on itself. Ditches are bitches. And for quitters.

The first job my son will have will be picking rocks on his grandfather's farm. He'll pick rocks from 6 a.m. until noon, then I'll wake up and take him to baseball practice and he'll like it. He'll learn to love baseball because at least it's not picking rocks with Grandpa. I'll be napping in the car, but he'll be out there building social skills and not being a pansy-loser who lives through television and movies. And his son.

Manual labour teaches kids to love their office jobs. Working with your mind is easy after you've been picking up sticks and dog crap from the park with your bare hands. If your kid is stupid and will end up doing nothing with his life, getting him out into the manual labour world will be the best for them. If you're around for long enough, everyone more senior than you will die or quit and you'll be the boss. That doesn't work in the real world – only in the world of manual labour!

It's not too late to give your kid his first taste of manual labour. Here's a handy guide to teaching your kid about life and why it sucks so much for stupid people with no schooling:


Good summer job for a kid: Working on a road construction site. Helping the engineers measure shit and riding around in the back of a truck all day kicks ass. Trucks build character. Just don't let him be the one to hold the stop sign or those stupid flags. That's a chick job. Unless the pay is better, don't let him do a chick job.

Bad summer job for a kid: Sniffing paint as a cashier at the Home Depot. The Home Depot is a swirling vortex of soulless individuals and yuppie chicks who watch too much television and sleep in coffins they made by themselves in a class, hosted by the Home Depot. Evil lurks around every corner and resides in the lumber section. The natives have cursed those trees. When your deck collapses and the evil spirits are freed once more, you'll understand. Serves you right for building a deck made out of OUR ANCESTORS!


Good summer job for a kid: Picking weeds on a golf course and being a caddy for people richer than you. Kids learn good shit on the golf course. Watch Caddyshack. Towards the end of the school year, play that movie on some television some where in the house, 24 hours a day. Play it in his room while he's sleeping. It will eventually become engrained in his mind that he must work at the golf course. Hopefully he'll get in good with the manager and you'll get to golf for free. But if he crashes a cart or burns down the club house, leave town. Once you're shunned by the golf course, you might as well drive off a cliff or go on a shooting spree at the McDonalds.

Bad summer job for a kid: Hat salesman at Sears. I hate Pimps and Queers. I got thrown out of there for hiding in a cabinet and scaring people when they opened it. And jumping on the beds. And peeing in a planter. And maybe eating some lipstick in the make-up section, but that doesn't really matter now. The matter is, Sears will feel my wrath. They won't know when and they won't know how, but they're going down. My campaign against Sears will show no mercy. If your kid is working there, he'll get caught in the crossfire and will probably lose a leg or an arm or maybe I'll just scalp him with a KitchenAid brand hatchet. Either way, stay the fuck out of Sears.


Good summer job for a kid: Street performer, aka a hobo. Dancing on the corner for nickels will show them what their lives will be like if they drop out of school to fulfill their dreams of making ballet costumes out of noodles or whatever those artsy kids do when they're not smoking pot and sitting in the Starbucks, not smoking pot. Stand and laugh at him daily when he's out there on that corner. Throw pennies at his head. Draw a penis on his face when he's sleeping and don't tell him it's there. Humiliation builds character.

Bad summer job for a kid: Street performer. See above.


Good summer job for a kid: Cutting grass at the hospital. He's at a hospital. If he cuts off his hand, they'll find some way to stick it back on. If they can't, he didn't deserve that hand anyway. You only have to worry about those saucy male nurses and their low-cut uniforms. Male nurses are all gay and like to tempt children with promises of candy, free elephant rides and piano lessons. Tape a nude picture of yourself on the back of your kid's shirt. That won't save him from the rape, but at least you'll find some use for all the nude pictures you took of yourself.

Bad summer job for a kid: Working the donut machine at the bakery in the Safeway. He's going to get fat around all that grease. It will seep into his pores and he'll start to need grease to breathe. Have you seen the cost of a grease humidifier? That's bad news right there. Plus, Safeway donuts are balls and the bakery chicks all have AIDS. Well, maybe not AIDS. Maybe just bad haircuts and smelly breath.


Good summer job for a kid: Working on the railroad. He'll find all sorts of neat shit on the tracks that he can bring home for you to sell on Ebay. He'll learn to expand his vocabulary with the dirty, old men that work with him. Plus, he'll learn all the words to that song 'I've been working on the railroad.' Just don't let him ride the rails without you. If he gets away from his mother, it wouldn't be fair to leave you behind with that mind-numbing wench and her plans to kill your soul and break your legs while you're sleeping so you can't run away again.

Bad summer job for a kid: Fiddler in a country band. He may get a free band jacket out of the deal, but riding around in a dirty old van with a bunch of whiskey-soaked old dudes isn't a place for a young man. That's your place. Learn how to fiddle and send the boy out to clean dirt at the dirt farm. Or make dirt on the dirt farm. I forget what they do on dirt farms. Something dirty, probably.


In summary, summer is for working outdoors. Keeping the kids out of the house will mean more time for your naps and running through the sprinklers in your underpants. If everything else fails, send your kids to art camp. If they hate it, they'll want a job the next year when you threaten to send them back. If they like it, kill their fish and say that God did it because He doesn't want you to be happy and the only way to save the souls of the fish is to give money to the church. Kids will believe anything you tell them until they catch you killing the fish. Claiming you are God might work, but that's a huge risk to take if your kid looks too much like Jesus and has a lot of Jew friends...

But even if it's chasing ducks off the grass of a golf course or painting a fence for biscuits, your kid will learn that doing manual labour is tough and not to dick around in school.

Plus, he'll be taking the job of an illegal Mexican immigrant.

Unless you are Mexican.

In that case, he'll probably be accidentally deported in a mass raid by the government. You'll get millions in a government settlement and you'll finally be able to build a house big enough for your 12 brothers, your four sisters and their husbands, your 26 cousins, your parents and those mangy dogs that keep peeing on your pajamas at night.

Maybe the kid will be able to build the house.

Building your own house builds character. And a house!