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By Steven Cleamer, July 18th, 2007
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"Good morning, sir! Let's start off by seeing how much of this cell phone from Sprint we can fit into your ass."
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See these two assholes? They look like consumer electronic store employees, don't they? That's because they're exactly like them; sniveling little pretentious shitheads that'll do the least they can for the most of your buck. They're going to come over to my house, haul a bunch of shit away like real men, and it's going to be awesome.
The job is relatively simple. I have a bunch of junk piled up in my enclosed side yard: some old dead trees cut down from my lawn a while back, an old waterbed headboard, a metal table, and a small pile of other random junk that has been tossed back there over the years. Why can I not defeat this task myself? Because I have a thing or two to do. I can't seem to get a hold of a decent handyman in town who isn't temporarily carless due to his 5th DUI this year. Thus, I have decided to use the professional hauling experts at 1-800-GOT-JUNK to whisk away all this shit for me.
Not too dissimilar to my favorite phone sex operator Latasha, spitting out her sensuating, sexy talk about how she's rubbing my beanbag and demanding I enjoy it, the "hauling scheduling expert specialist" asshole on the phone smooth talks me into nodding my head like a fucking idiot to a price list of their rates. Based on the description of the load I give him, he estimates the cost will be around $100. However, like a douchebag, I didn't bother checking their Web site, completely oblivious to the fact these idiots drive around in trucks that have cargo space not much larger than that of a standard sedan. I've hauled more shit in my large intestine.
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The amount of money you'll have to withdrawl from your savings account and 401k is based on how much you fill up the truck.
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Glancing at their pathetic excuse for a truck upon its arrival, I decide to change my order. The truck is tiny and weak, barely able to muster enough engine power to get up my driveway in reverse. Add a couple of balloons to it and it'd look like the perfect lure to attract a kid for some touching time. Instead of taking everything, I simply have them take the tree remnants, since the pile of dead wood took up the majority of the side yard.
I'm dispatched two peons who look like they should be in a buddy comedy the likes of David Spade and Chris Farley. One guy is a scrawny little shit, smaller than half the wood logs, who looks like he eats once a week. His hefty partner, on the other hand, appears to enjoy his overindulgence in the art of consuming massive amounts of lard. These two fucks whine and bitch about the exhausting labor they're having to endure by carrying nicely cut up logs 10 feet from the side yard to their shitty ice cream-sized truck. The chunky guy is totally out of shape, sweating like a pig not five minutes after he starts lifting 20 pound logs. I guess these pussies are accustomed to hauling bags filled with fluffy clouds of joy.
After about an hour of work that should?ve taken 20 minutes, they're finally finished. My dead tree logs have managed to fill up a third of the truck, costing me almost $225. What the fuck? $225? Filling a third of their truck with a few large sticks cost me as much as a full hour sloppy knob shine with an Asian midget dressed up like a kitten? The asshole on the phone said $100 for twice as much junk! As I'm presented the bill, the fat fuck is completely drenched in sweat, bitching like Paris Hilton at a court hearing. Although I'm reluctant to fork out a hefty check for such shoddy work, I give him the money, eager to get both of these faggots and their fucking truck off my driveway.
After sucking off my wallet like a French whore, Tubbo gives me a sign to stick in my yard to show off to neighbors and people driving by how I've just had my precious prostate violently mushroom stamped. However, $225 isn't enough to have them clean the area they hauled shit from. To get the cleaning special, you have to allow two additional inches of shaft into your cornhole. So, now I'm paying them to advertise their shitfuck service on my God damn lawn. Unfortunately, the pleasure I'll experience sharing my desire for anal penetration by a sweaty fat fuck and his bony buddy is limited to a week, since they'll actually come back to pick up the fucking sign. I guess the price has to cover the expense of driving these gas-guzzling shitmobiles around town to pick up single pieces of cardboard.
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The moral of the story: Want it done right? Want it done quick? Want it done cheap? Bribe these guys. For an extra Jackson, they'll probably haul off a body or two for you.
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After he drives off, I throw it away.
Luckily, I was able to bribe some trash guys the following day. For $100, I have them haul away the entire side yard and a bunch of boxes and other shit inside my house. For less than half the price, these guys haul nearly three times as much shit without once breaking a sweat or saying one God damn word. They're dirty, smell like shit, aren't wearing faggy uniforms, and do an excellent job.
That's what I get for being a douchebag. So, the next time you need shit hauled away and the idiotic thought of hiring a company that puts more effort into the talk instead of the walk, hit yourself with a blunt object several times and think again. Slip ol' Topper Harley and Gordon Bombay a Franklin.
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