It’s entirely possible that you’ve never deigned to imagine what goes on in the average workday of a man like Spock BUCKTON. Which is kinda sad, because you’re missing out on one of nature’s greatest miracles.
We’ve long considered the fact that a human (?) like BUCKTON is even living, let alone functioning and, heck, maybe even thriving in the current work climate to be nothing short of a miracle. The man doesn’t understand basic technology like light switches and somehow manages to pull down over 120k per year. It’s truly stunning.
Everybody’s got fucked up stories about fuckin’. Here’s one of mine…
It’s 1997 and a young BUCKTON is only 20 years old and at, what we called in those days, A RAVE. I don’t know what the shit you bozos call ‘em nowadays, but it’s probably abbreviated or an emoji or some shit. Raves were things that you’d go to pretty much exclusively to do drugs, make out with strangers and dance to a bunch of boingy dance music that only sounded good if you were all boinged up on multiple drugs. I guess they were kind of like Burning Man, but people weren’t getting their fingers eaten by hippy trucks called BIG MOMMA.
Hello, FUCKWATCHERS. Some of you may remember me, some of you may not. If you don’t – well, you can just eat a bag of cold, hard boners. If you do – you can also eat a bag of cold, hard boners as well but they’ll be the kind of cold, hard boners that you like and not the disgusting fucking ones that the people who don’t remember me will have to eat.