Laundry is for hookers and fat people!

...and people who want clean clothes too, I guess.

LUCKY. :(

All you people with money and friends and make trips to go to bars make me jealous.

Lyndse, I don't have any free money to go to bars. Either way, I don't like paying for covers. It's best to have friends that are doing PR for clubs so there is no cover to pay and you get free or at least discounted drinks!

PRs make a lot of money for the work that they do. They make more money than I do. My company listed the job I applied for 45k. They were able to mark it down to 38k when I got hired (Excuse me, is there a sign behind me that says 'kick me?') This is a nine-to-five job so I try not feel cheated. It's better than the personalities that PRs have to deal with regularly. Many of them are "hail fella well met" when drunk, but depressives during the day. My job is my way of earning money and experience in the workforce until later in life I reach my plateau and decide to get an mba. But it has always been like that for me. Bar PRs are just unsteady people. The first time I moved to Minneapolis as a freshmen in 2001 and having settled, my buds and I decided to start a boat wash service. The boats we cleaned sat on many lakes. Minnesota supposedly has ten thousand lakes. We fliered docks, harbors, residences with neon paper touting the "freshness of freshmen scrubbing." Alls that business really was is to use regular car liquid cleaners and fresh water to wash. We kept great relationships with customers, specifically by pointing out that we kept high quality standards by keeping the rainbow tinted suds from the lake water. Did that for three years in twenty different lake areas. During spring break of my junior year, my good friend Julie Sundeen (rl lastname) and I decided to meet up with my high school buds from Grand Forks in Lake Maple. Seven hour drive to the most popular spot in that region. Every other access road led to a lakeshore bar. Lakeshore bars don't need a dance floor and hence a PR precisely because the attraction is much more inherent. Drunks swim the lake from the dock...that's how many of them die as well, actually...but I digress. I screwed Julie six times during the time I was there. I screwed her in the small living room in the nearby hotel suite I would afford. I screwed her in the threshold of the living room and bathroom. She screamed while her breast where pressed against the bathroom tiles; ripped the rings from the curtain. Despite all that fucking and drinking, she was unhappy. I bade my buds bye and we both left for a nearby Twin City lake to join with mutual friends. We came to another lake shore suite to more coves of bars. The bars in these area get people from Minneapolis, which really means minorities (which is what I am) and blacks. Sundeen was happier and so initiated much of the our sex. Come Saturday morning, I waited for her in the parking lot and out she comes with a black girl who looked very familiar. The way home became an interrogation for both sides. You can think of her as the black girl who came in Freshman year as Sarah, and left Freshman year as 'Shaniquah.' The critical moment went on something like this. Me: "Tom Sowell is not a sellout." Shaniquah: "When my people are not copped at the street they live, when my children can have education they deserve, when every other black man is in jail because-" Me: "Because that black man decided that getting a job wasn't good. And he stole goods from the street where he got copped. As for your kid.." Shaniqua: "What about my kid...my kid!" Each time there was an inflection in her voice, her eyes sputtered out tears as if the words she was saying was the greatest thing in the world. She ended that exchange by calling me a racist. My parents are from the Philippines(mother chinese dad is german looking hispanic), I get mistaken for a Mexican. Some Mexicans look kinda white, and she thought I was white. When an ethnic man creates an argument that is against leftism one needs to be sure that he is knowledgeable about the arguments. Had she known I was ethnic she probably would have called me a sellout instead like the man (tom sowell) who I was defending. It lit a fuse and it blew. I stopped the car to the shoulder locked all doors except hers, ripped her from her seat, locked the door and slammed it. Her anger raced against my rage as I slammed my door and left her in the dust. Julie was crying, and I was pissed for the whole ride home. She tried to charge me for hate crime in student services. I transferred out to UND. She dropped out. I came back just months ago, though my boxes haven't all been unpacked. Bought new furniture. Checked my old facebook and got in touch with my old buds. Turns out Shaniqua is making high five figure as a Bar PR. This is long I know, but I thought it was of interest. The ugly bitch tried to try me a hate crime! Ha!