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2003-06-07
11:35 p.m.

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So at my work theres this mentally handicapped guy Rodney, yeah? Nice enough guy, retarded as fuck, but does a great job sweeping for 9.5 hours a day. I'm sure there's some sort of law prohibiting such a flagrant disregard for the overworking of the chromosomally challenged, but whatever. He's super happy, and is always sure to great you with a grin and some sort of up-beat mumble. He's even got a handicapped significant -other working in one of the grease-trap restaurants on campus. Anywhoo, the other day Rodney's sweeping about wearing this shirt with the words "DEATH TO LIFE" printed in white letters on a black background. I mean, jeezus, I'm kinda fuckin' creeped out now. Could this be a cry for help or... EMPHATIC WARNING FOR HIS FELLOW EMPLOYEES?? Or perhaps, the mentally handicappedness is a clever facade, and he's already dumped a vial of SARS into the chicken paella. Crap...

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