A Recipie For P K Tea

One part false hope
One part abject misery
Two parts insomnia
Three parts delusion that things will change
Three parts guilt about the clients' welfare

Mix ingrediants well and randomly. Steep all ingrediants in vinegar and bleach until nothing left remains. Enjoy!

Priceless PKT Collectable Memorabilia

Priceless PKT Collectable Memorabilia
Originally uploaded by teerlinck

These rare collectables are now available for a limited time only! Item number one is a rare PKT frisbee made from high tensile, lightweight plastic resin, making a fun and durable way to "give back" to the community! Item number two is an insulated beverage container that bears not only the company logo, but the motto as well: "investing in the lives of people." Its was designed by German engineers and was made using polyform microfibers with rubberized gripping mini-nodule overlay. The airtight seal from the plasto-carbide alloy lid will keep your hot brandy warm as you drive on a snowy winter evening to another overnight. And folks, lets not forget about the non-load bearing, caribiner key chain with lockable handle. This little beauty will keep your keys secure from even the most extreme emergency incidents! Act fast because these rare jewels are also imbued with rich historical value and they're sure to disappear soon--in my dumpster out behind my apartment.

They Call Me the Shocker!

Yo, they call me da Shocker
Why?
'Cause I gots my hummer paid for
by my clients in their walkers
I am da Big Daddy
and papa know best
Work your 80 hours bitch
Then die like the rest

Developmental disabilities
racks me up the dead presidents
Sheeeit don't y'all be illin' these
Or you ain't down wit common sense

Don't you even fuckin' test me
'Cause I need a damn 757 boeing
To haul the gold-gold paid me by the coun-tee
Back to my ten acres crib
wit my clients out mowing

Bitches don't even turn your backs
'Cause I'll rob your asses blind
Even while thinkin' bout yer booty
and workin hard to mac

Oh shit, y'alls think I ain't a playa?
When I'm at my desk
Staring at your breast
My dreamy eyes are blessed
And I end up making Christian Slater
Look like a swamp lovin' alligator

But don't think I'm a hater
I pray to God every day
To save the sorry souls
Of the fuckin' heathens who I pay

Now listen close jack
'Cause thats an interesting point
I make bank for the Man Upstairs
He said son, "screw them dawgs
Use your thug ways, blow the damn joint"

And when the Lord JC
compared a rich man to a camel
He din't mean me
The Big Boss knows I ain't lost
'Cause a prosperous Christian
Is a superior mammal

No One Knows What BOJO Knows...

No one what knows what BOJO knows
High priest, Grand Poobah in white robes
No one knows what BOJO knows
His enigmatic soul patch beckons girlies close
No one knows what BOJO knows
He hides inside his positive cloak
No one knows what BOJO knows
King's English is a distant ghost
No one knows what BOJO knows
Paraklatos now his holy host
No one knows what BOJO knows
But his phony bullshit really blows

The death of common sense

Common sense folks,

its not so common.

It began dying when...

...salaried slaves didn't want to work 80 hour work weeks

...the boss was no longer seen as Our Father Who Knows Whats Best For Us

...low life workers wanted MORE than shyt for pay and demanded BENEFITS (oh no!)