Adventures in Babysitting Paper Delivery
Posted by Mando on June 26, 2005

Last week, I decided to take on the daunting task of being a neighborhood papergirl because I was in need of a job. Yes, yes, I know, getting paid ten cents a day to throw paper at people’s lawns sounds quite glamorous, but in reality it is not. I had the task of delivering papers to the ghost-ridden, police governed Easy Street, the toughest street in America.


But Mando, I have never heard of Easy Street before!


Who the fuck are you and why are you in my article?


My name is Jimmy and I am a curious onlooker! Tell me, where is Easy Street located?


That question is easily answered! Why don’t we take a look here in this geography book!

As you can see, Jimmy, Easy Street stretches all across the USA! Now get the fuck out of my article!


Anyway, my assigned street was Easy Street and I was in for a challenge. Not even into my first week, a ghost decided to freak a teen!

The first house you see when you turn onto Easy Street isn’t a house at all. It’s an EVIL FORTRESS OF DEATH THAT HAS GARGOYLES THAT SHOOT LAZERS. My mission was to try and avoid said LAZER-GOYLES.

Most attempts at fleeing the lazer-goyles were unsuccessful, but that did not damper my spirits. As soon as I got past them, I delivered my first paper. I threw it straight into their mailbox!!! IT WAS GREAT and oh so fulfilling, almost like a newspaper hitting a mailbox.

During my perfect delivery, I must have pissed off a scare crow, because it came running after me. HOLY CRAP THAT WAS SCARY. It was almost as if a movie about a scarecrow came to life! Even the old lady who lives there was scared. I hope she didn’t shit her depends!!!! Oh that was really mature.

I thought since the old people got scared, that maybe they shouldn’t be viewing the evil scarecrow. Immediately, I thought to throw a newspaper at them to knock them over. Then I threw a newspaper at the scarecrow. He started singing about wanting a brain or something stupid like that.

Apparently, old people don’t like getting a big roll of paper chucked (HAHAHA YOU CAN CHUCK THINGS AT PEOPLE?) at their face, because they decided to unsubscribe.

Later on during my route, I happened upon a runaway baby! How this baby got loose I do not know because I couldn’t find the parents. I think that possibly the child was either pushed down the hill by some inexperienced parents who thought it would be a fun game or that it was some sort of Martian baby that was dropped on Easy Street for me to rescue in a secret plot for my demise.

Saving that dumb baby only got me a medal and a grope from police officer with a shit-faced grin. I am now pro-choice just to spite you, stupid baby. I HOPE YOU GET ABORTED IN THE FUTURE EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN BORN.

So I survived my first week, but when my second week came around things really went crazy. Apparently, the creepy police guy told everyone I was a prostitute and that there was a price on my head, so everyone started to try and maul me. I had the worst of luck with things like (oh great a fucking list):


-Psychotic Mando's who like to drive into things

-Psychotic people who like to drive on the sidewalk

-Psychotic random forts, that possibly holds a hillbilly and his pet vulture

-Psychotic badass Bulldogs that have nasty nosebleeds (Fuck, I hope he doesn't bleed on me.)

-Psychotic Dalmations that like to sex my bicycle up, trying to make hybrid dogs with wheels.

-Psychotic dog catchers who either don't know how the fuck to drive or they are blind, therefore making it hard for them to catch dogs. (WHAT IF THEY HAVE MUTANT SENSES OF SMELL JEEZ)

My last week was the week that I decided that I didn’t care about paper delivery anymore. I wanted to have fun with newspapers, so I started off with little things like throwing papers at sunbathing women. These women always sunbathed near a hose, so they always got sprayed with said hose, making for hilarity every single time.

When she shook her horribly animated fist at me it only made me want to be more ANARCHY. So I sewed a RANCID logo on my black hoodie with green dental floss and pierced myself. But really, I mean I started throwing newspapers at more stuff.


My second target were themonsters who enjoy reading the comics section. There's just something creepy about a sewer monster who likes to read the newspaper. Maybe it's because they they live in a giant toilet and it's their bathroom reading material of choice.

Later that day I saw Bill and Ted playing basketball, and I couldn't resist throwing a newspaper at them. TIME TRAVEL THAT, DUDES. Oh man, that was a great burn.

Then it was time for some vandalism. I had to do it. They weren't a subscriber, therefore they're assholes that need their windows broken. Lucky for me, I have a bike and I ride swift like the wind! SWOOOSH!

After that I decided to go onto larger things to mess around with. I thought "Mando, there are quite a few guys who work on cars on this street. Maybe I should hit them with newspapers because they cannot see me!" The first guy's hood fell on him, burning his face off. Then I crashed into his truck and caught my hair on fire. Fucking karma. OR SHOULD I SAY CARMA? HO HO HO HO.

MY HAIR IS ON FIRE AHHh

The second guy wasn't so lucky, though. If you call luck having your face melted off your skull.

Fuck, squished.

I had to flee for my life because I killed a man with a newspaper. Talk about bad press (OH I AM HILARIOUS.). I rode and rode and rode until my legs felt as if they could fall off. Then I fell off my bike.

Again.

For No reason. Other than that my legs are stupid and I should CHOP THEM THE FUCK OFF FOR THEIR INSOLENCE.



I then realized that being a paper girl just wasn't the job for me. It was too late though, because I had already been fired and arrested for manslaughter by the creepy police man. There goes my summer vacation :(.

-Mando
AIM: polkadotted seams
email: Mando@the7thlevel.com