Once upon a time…I was ballin’, hoe.  I would do things only true ballers do. Like, go to the dentist on a Tuesday. Not because I had raging gingivitis, or any of those other inhumanly disgusting mouth follies people get from not being listed on somebody’s payroll…but simply, because I could. Because I had a job. With a dental plan. And I like the taste of bubblegum fluoride. It’s delicious.

See, I think what people fail to realize, is that having a job is some beautiful shit. It’s like an eight hour handy  from an angel whose palms are made from cherry-lanolin and butterfly milk (I’m not certain if either of those exist, but I bet they smell amazing), and after an arduous days effort creates an intense build-up, and the clock on the wall finally hits 5:00pm……………………………………….SKEET!!! Got dammit, SKEET!!! 

It’s awesome.

You know what’s not awesome?

Not having a job.

You know what else is not awesome?


But, I’m willing to bet that if the two of those not awesome things were to  fight each other over who was the most not awesomest, Not Having a Job would whoop the monkey piss out of Slavery. It would stand over  Slavery’s bruised body, with its foot on its chest, victoriously holding its fist in the air, and yell some grossly  unsportsmanlike shit like, “BRIIIIIIICKSKWAAAAAAAD!”

…and then it would go home and post the video on ShmorldstarShmipshmop.com.

Not Having a Job is an asshole.

Almost three months ago, I left a plush job in California (where my work was actually valued and rewarding), to take a lesser job in North Carolina. A job I eventually ended up quitting a few weeks in, after being paid with bounced checks and various other fuckshittery. I decided to make the move to be closer to friends and family. Upon further review, friends and family are stupid. Anyhow, since leaving that job, I haven’t been able to find not a nan nada job anywhere. It’s been the most miserable days of my life. Yesterday, while I was enjoying the cottony soft soft cotton of the same t-shirt I wore the day before, I thought, “Dang, I bet slavery is waaaay better than being unemployed!”  Specifically, for these four major reasons:

1.) Sense of Accomplishment –  I gather, that at the end of a laborious day, a slave probably looks unto the field with his arms folded, chest out, and thinks smugly to himself,  ” Look at that shit.  I’m a bad muhfuggah! ”  Because nothing makes you feel better than knowing you’ve done a hard days work. Know what I did today? Same thing I’ve done  every day for the past week. Wake up at 10, watch an hour of Tyler Perry’s House of Payne, followed by another hour of  Meet the Browns, spend a thousand hours on my iphone playing Draw Something with people I’ve never met before, and two push-ups. I’ve achieved nothing. Maybe I’ll build an arcade out cereal boxes. F*ck that little kid!

2.) Slavery Food–  You know what unemployment food is? Ramen. I’ve eaten so much ramen lately that I fart beef flavored dust. Just yesterday, I made a sandwich out of lettuce, taco cheese and the sausages I picked off a leftover frozen pizza. It’s a totally undignified cuisine. Unlike slavery food, which includes a number of my now favorite foods (cornbread, field peas, miscellaneous animal parts, lemonade and cabbage). I get a tongue boner just thinking about it. Slaves ate better than most good job havin’-ass niggas…and definitely  better than vegans.

3.) Resume Building–  There’s a faction of highly desirable skills developed from plantation work that would make one an undeniable candidate for any job. A slave could virtually walk into any corporate office, and astound any potential employer.


Interviewer: “So, I see you worked at Slavery?  Can you tell me briefly about any skills you may have that qualify you for this position?”

Slave: “Well, suh, I’m a slave.”

Interviewer: “Excellent, you’re hired!”

Meanwhile, in an interview not so far away:

Interviewer: “So, I see you’re currently unemployed? Can you tell me briefly about any skills you may have that qualify you for this position?”

Me: “I’m really good at Draw Something and I can fart beef flavored dust!”

Interviewer: “Next!”


4.) Sociability– Unemployment is the absolute loneliest, sad-song singingest shit Jesus ever created on the planet of the Earths. Everyday, from 9 to 5,  it’s like the entire universe just stops existing to me, and I feel like a lonely ass puppy waiting for my owner to come back, cause everybody I know is at work. Probably doing awesome things, like sending faxes and transferring phone calls. Do you know how long eight hours is in lonely puppy time? Approximately 1 billion years. At least in slavery, your whole posse was out there with you. In the field singing songs and cracking “Yo’ mama so slavery” jokes. I bet those jokes were hilarious. Also, if you’re unemployed, you can forget about knocking boots. Girls ain’t trying to hump a dude with a scarlet “U” on his nuts. Which is totally unfair, cause even those non job havin’ heifers will turn you down. But, it don’t work that way at slavery.  At slavery, all Gods children are created equal. Poor, black and funky. You’re Def Jef, and she’s Michel’le…all in the same gang. Bang, bang, bang, bang.

Look, I’m not saying that slavery was one big carnival of good food and booty-hump, what I’m saying is…HIRE ME! Please?

Boktown, have you ever been unemployed? For how long? Did it suck?  Is slavery still hiring? Don’t you think Uncle Curtis is a funny? I think he’s funny.



-haji p.


Lilly Whiteass

April 11th, 2012

I was unemployed for six months. It was the most humiliating, self esteem destroying, experience in my life. Then I got a job at a pretty great place, where I made some pretty cool friends, till one of them moved his punk ass across the country. I’ve got a spare room, Come Home Now


April 11th, 2012

That guy sounds like an idiot.


April 12th, 2012

I wonder what it would smell like if you lit a Beef flavored Ramen dust fart? Have you ever considered becoming the master of your own destiny? I mean you have already taken the red pill so now your in unemployment wonderland. You might be Ramen broke but I think your looking at it from a perspective that you have to work for someone to make money. Find a hustle! Some hustle’s turn into full time legit careers. Girls love broke guys with nothing going on so you must be fucking up somewhere. I have a cousin who has two boys and just got out of prison for serious shit and now he has a conservative 9 to 9 1/2 fine azzz that loves him to def go figure. A few years ago I came up with the idea of making a website where I could bring all the tattoo parlors on the east coast together and sell their merchandise send the tattoo shop the invoice and have it dropped shipped. Why can’t you do that? Hell man think about all the merchandise in cali that we can’t get here.


April 12th, 2012


1.) It smells like Tokyo, post Godzilla attack.

2.) Unemployed nuts and felon nuts are two completely unrelated nuts. Girls are predestined to liking felon in utero.

3.) Im sure your business is doing fabulous, congratulations. The argument here, however, is not about Rick Ross husslin’, or relying on someone else to make money, as much as it is the god-awful minutes spent being without a productive, daily task…and the fact that my dumb ass left a dope job for a no job. But, m’man, let’s acknowledge the fact that in any grind/hustle/occupation…you are still relying on somebody else to provide your income. I just prefer my hustle to come with a dental plan. Plus, I enjoy what I do. Or did. Whatever.


April 12th, 2012

I laughed for a long time after scrolling down to see “Sense of accomplishment!”


April 20th, 2012

so like. you should start your own business. i mean it’s not like you’re doing anything else. think about all the things you’re good at and do something with it. isht. i’ve been laid off several times, and each time, making isht up and selling it to someone was my saving grace. make it work son.

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