My name is Thomas Brown Hewitt and I am a butcher. There I was…the economy was up to no good and they shut down the meat packing plant. What is a guy who came straight out of the dumpster do for a job? I have no education, no people skills and worst of all no water. They shut it off when I was 3 months late on paying my bill.

So I smell like liver and shitz. It was a choice between basic cable and water and there is no way in hell I’m missing Chopped on the Food Network. I guess I could become a garbage man, I do have experience in that since I was born in a dumpster. I mean hell that is like being born with a silver spoon in your mouth when it comes to garbage men.

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Anyway, a typical morning for me these days is waking up around noon, rounding up whatever change I can find in the couch or my beat-up 1970’s pickup and going down to the general store to get a six-pack of Budweiser. Usually you can find me on the couch sitting in my tight whites since my clothes stink like dead bitches, I mean cattle. Dead cattle. Every once in awhile I call up my friend Andrew Barnyski and we throw back a few beers listen to some Pantera and generally waste any God given talent either one of us still have in our lives. He’s a good guy, misunderstood, but a good guy nonetheless. I guess that is why we get along so well.

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Lunch time rolls around and my tight whites are still stanky fresh. My stomach is growling like a chainsaw ripping through young lamb meat. If you know what I mean!? Oh you don’t know what I mean. Let me explain that one to ya, the chainsaw is my dick and the lamb meat is young vagina that Andrew is bringing over later tonight. Now I know that is probably a bit graphic for yall, but god damn, I’m a serial killer for God’s sakes. I mean butcher. I’m a butcher. At least that’s what appears on my resume. I hope that is what appears on my resume…maybe that is why I’m not getting any interviews. This is why I don’t talk to the media much. You probably won’t get my sense of humor. Too hot for TV as Jerry says. JERRY JERRY JERRY. I miss that guy. Rest in Peace.

The dinner bell only comes once every couple of days. Try to pace myself and catch a nice juicy rat running around this shit hole I live in. Otherwise I go “hunting.”After dinner I like to sharpen my butcher knifes. Never know when someone might call me in for an interview. I have to keep my skills just as sharp as my knives.

You’ll have to excuse me for a second, I may, or may not have just shit my tight whites.
If so we may have to call this a wrap today.

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I’ve got some good news and bad news. The bad news is, I did shit myself. The good news is two fold. I found a piece of corn in my tight whites, which is a huge surprise considering I haven’t ate corn in quite some time. The other piece of good news is Andrew just showed up with that “lamb” I was talking about earlier. That being said we are going to have to end this for today. That is unless you want to stay for dinner? No? Okay then…HEY! Before yall leave do you mind if I put you down as a personal reference on my resume?

*fires up chainsaw*