driving mr. fuckly

Here’s the latest from Greedion.

Recently, he went to a VC conference. A VC conference is when a bunch of condescending assholes get together to celebrate the relentless reaming they give their investors with bad investments and huge management fees. It’s like an evil Star Trek convention. Only treknerds allowed.

During the course of this sausage (ish) fest, Greedion learned that a fellow venture capitalist has an ample household staff. Presumably because he works for one of those VC firms where they get lucky and actually make money once in a while. We strike out every single fucking time. [Cue in image of Beatrix saying buh-bye to the promised closing bonus that will never come].

Anyway, Greedion, not to be any less, and trying desperately to conform to his elitist ideal, now wants a driver. Someone to drive him around while he flops in the back seat working on his laptop. I imagine that the holiday season is approaching and he needs oodles of time to scour Amazon and get the gifts. Wait, he’s Jewish, so, no gifts. Well, then I assume is to lurk in obscure chatrooms looking for…an unsolicited daytime debut in To Catch a Predator. Allegedly!

So, he placed an ad asking for a driver. The requisites as he listed them were: a bachelor’s degree, the capacity to doodle, untold amounts of free time, a car, and enough desperation to be on call for ocassional work with significant downtime for…wait for it…wait for it…$5 per hour. Strangely, this is what every single reply contained:

 

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