Dane Barbados Jr. on: Employment (part I)

For some reason people seem to think that since Dane Barbados Jr. lives in the lap of luxury and utter opulence that he has never worked an honest day's work.

These guttersnipe nincompoops clearly envy the exploits of your Humble Narrator. It is not the fault of Dane Barbados Jr. that they cannot rest their feet upon a gilded, platinum, tray held by a trained Panamanian dwarf named Phillipe. Nor is it the fault of Dane Barbados Jr. that they are not fed sweet morsels cooked by a buxom redhead, placed into his mouth by a glittering fork held by a zaftig raven-haired goddess and wipes his mouth on the large and ample busom of a statuesque Blond. Truly they can blame only God.

...or their own stupidity.


No Dane Barbados Jr. knows of work. When he was but the young age of 12 the monarch, Dane Barbados Sr., grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, tore him from betwixt the thighs of a 22 year old female admirer, slapped the cigarette from his mouth and kicked him from the castle gates.

A short while later your Humble recieved a letter sealed with the crimson seal of the House Barbados (a griffon breathing flame and brandishing a sword). This letter, from the monarch himself, proclaimed that it was high time that Barbados the Junior should learn the value of hard work. The monarch suggested a stint in a coal mine.

The words of Dane Barbados Sr. were not to be denied.


To be continued.