Summer is for Fucking (Part 1)

I thought it was about time to make a new post here. I've learned to hate this Godforsaken blog over the past few months, but I'm gonna try to turn it around in time for the beginning of classes in the fall.

Summer is for fucking because summer is when all the cool kids have sex on the beach and under shady trees and in public restrooms--wait, scratch that last one, that's pathetic, lonely old men, but at least they're getting laid--and the losers like me continually get fucked by everyone but the girl of my dreams. And also because I say the word fuck a lot.

First of all, Fuck you, Grassroots Campaigns Inc., you suck. You take money from people without being able to tell them where it's going. While briefly working for you, I quickly realized that that's because it's going to lobbyists and special interest groups, you fucking hypocrites. "We're nonpartisan, we swear." Oh yeah? Is that why you have a picture of John McCain likened to Hitler in your New York canvassing office and you start off the day by saying left is right and right is wrong. I don't care whether I support Obama or not, don't tell me that you're nonpartisan and then shove liberal views down people's throats. I'm not a conservative, but i'm also not a fucking liar, which is more than I can say for GCI. Good riddance, motherfuckers.

By the way, after I quit, these high class employers withheld my pay for the two days I spent out on the street, discovering that Europeans will stop when you look them in the eye but Americans will pretend to be on the phone or just ignore you entirely. I still haven't received the money, and frankly, I wouldn't accept it anyway. When I came back to the office with a large number of stops (people who stop to talk to me and my clipboard) but only $60 on my first day out, and in the pouring rain I might add, I was informed that I needed more training in how to 

get those people to give me their money. The problem is why would anyone give their credit card information to a man on the streets of New York with a clipboard and no identification proving his affiliation to the group that he claims to be representing. I wouldn't and neither should you, because chances are that it's a swindle. Therefore I quit and was essentially fucked as I had wasted all of my money from my job in Boston and didn't even have the prospects for another job. I know, not entirely their fault but nevertheless I was fucked. But that's what the summer is for.

I didn't proofread this post, so please excuse the typos and mindless errors that I may have made. 

I'll be updating this more throughout the summer as I find more examples of why summer is for fucking, or in my case, for getting fucked.