Imagine I have a job where I’m paid to shit on your doorstep.

Imagine I have a job where I’m paid to shit on your doorstep.

Technically, I’m only supposed to pee there, but I get a good performance review if I leave you a nice, gleaming turd, too.

Now, leaving turds isn’t technically legal, but the police would find it inconvenient to prove it’s my turd, and plus, I tend to shit more often on the doors of people they don’t like, so they look the other way.

Sure, if I didn’t take the job, it would be someone else shitting on your doorstep. But it’s not. It’s me.

Are you telling me you could look me in the eye after seeing my pale ass cheeks making your carefully painted porch into a gastrointestinal Jackson Pollack, that you could watch me get into the Tesla that I earned by ruining the porches of your entire neighborhood and making every morning smell like shit, and shake my hand (which I used to wipe with your newspaper)?

I’m not asking OP to magically stop all porchfront excretion.

I just won’t shake the hand of the person shitting on my doorstep, and I’m not afraid to point out they *chose* to become a doorstep shitter.

#Imagine #job #paid #shit #doorstep

What do you think?

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