I run a Mois-a-tron.  It puts the sticky stuff on envelops.  It’s really a cool machine, but the stuff gets everywhere.  It gets on your clothes, in your hair, in your mouth.  I taste it all the time.  I’ve lost 20 pounds since I’ve been on that machine.  I don’t really run it, you know.  It really runs itself.  I’m just the guy they yell at when it breaks down.  And it breaks down a lot.  It’s getting old.  If they’d just spend a little money, they could probably fix the damn thing, but no.  They won’t do that.  Every time we get above 450, it jams.  Like that’s my fault.  We’d put out more envelops if they’d just run slower, but try telling that to the boss.  After all, he’s been to college.  Dumb Ass U.  But what really gripes me is that my girlfriend got me this job.  My old girlfriend.  My ex.  Yeah, I had this other job.  I worked at a grocery store.  Sacking.  Shagging carts.  I’ll admit it.  It was a real slacker job.  It’s a great job for high school.  But I’m 23.  I didn’t care.  I thought it was OK.  I guess that’s because I really am a slacker.  But, you see, she didn’t want to date a slacker.  So she insists that I get this job.  She even gets it for me.  See, she worked for this employment agency.  So I quit the store, and here I am.  And then she dumps me.  Starts dating her therapist.  I didn’t even know she had a therapist.  Man, that can’t be ethical.