I figured that I’d expand upon my Rusty’s Miracle Loaf small business enterprise, which is booming by the way. If you aren’t familiar with Rusty’s Miracle Loaves refer to my post (Lake Shitticakapupupeepee from 24AUG2011). I almost exclusively eat the Dollar Store white bread and GNC multivitamins. I do this because TIME is MONEY. I have a schedule of approximately a full sized loaf every three hours. Upon producing and packaging the loaves I have a network of distributors of whom I keep in an underground status as I do not pay taxes to the Government. I figure that the product I offer is not necessarily a manufactured product in the same way as let’s say a wooden chair or a car stereo would be. I think that what I have for sale is more akin to prostitution. A lady of the night sells her body for money. She is not producing anything; she is just utilizing the natural function of what God gave her. Her bodily orifices will perform as they were intended, for the most part. With Miracle Loaves, my body is performing as IT was intended. The prostitute was most likely going to fuck someone anyways, thus it stands to reason she might as well make some money while she’s at it. I was going to shit anyways, so therefore I will make money as well. The wooden chair or the car stereo were not going to materialize out of thin air, to be sold for profit, without the effort of a worker. As my loaves are going to be created whether I like it or not, why not construct a corporate structure to take advantage of the situation? For every $1 worth of bread I eat I produce $6 worth of nutrient rich shit for fertilizer. That’s a 600 percent increase! On any given day I’ll clear 200 to 300 bucks easy. Not bad for just sitting on the crapper playing video games and reading Penthouse. The toilet, not necessarily the bathroom, but the toilet, is my sanctuary, as it is with most men. If I could do all my business from there I would.
As far as spending goes, I have to admit, I tend to splurge stupidly when I have extra money. Lately, however, since I’ve been raking in the cash on this venture of mine, I wanted to treat myself. I figured since I’m on the crapper every three hours, I’d have something installed. It is a robotic arm attached to the wall across from me. It’s only function is to HIGH FIVE me every time I yell out “CHU-CHING!”, which just so happens to coincide with the DEEP SIX-ing of my shit. For comic relief I had a live monkey head mounted above the arm which is kept alive intravenously utilizing a blood transfusing pump system installed behind the wall. It just sits there and does a monkey scream in terror every time it sees the arm move to high five me. The monkey head can’t do much else but scream in terror as it’s pretty much brain dead and running on the constant injections of adrenaline pumped into it to keep it functioning in a semi-conscious state, but it’s still hilarious! Oh man, I feel another loaf coming on right about now, I gotta go and get paid! CHA-CHING! CHA-CHING!
Side Note: You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how much time and effort I put into creating the bathroom scene picture with the robotic arm and live monkey head using nothing but MS Paint. Too long is the answer, far far too long, but it does look awesome though.
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