(hits bong)

So I’m working at my other job at the fish joint, because we still aren’t receiving steady paychecks  from the stuffed animal who runs this fine fake magazine.

Anyway this old man walks in and sits in one of the booths. He looks like one of those crazy old men that  goes out in public just to start arguments. So I go and see what he wants to eat, and before I could say anything…he asks me where the shrimp was from and was it ever handled by slaves?

(hits bong)

How the fuck should I know! I mean hopefully the fish joint I work at has enough common decency to not use enslaved shrimp, but if you’re hungry…what difference does it make?

(hits bong)

Peep this! Two days later some fucking lady asks me where the salmon is from? So I told her the Atlantic ocean…I don’t know I’m just making shit up half the time.

She said “no I mean like where specifically. What city?”

(hits bong)

Ha! I was like ” well the salmon you would be eating grew up in Santiago, Chile, and had a very troubled childhood. He bounced around several foster families before…Lady do you want some fish or not?”

(hits bong)

There is no business like fish business!

Peace.

Old Skool Joe