I preface this by saying I'm talking out of my ass here - but the Halloween Google Doodle was giving me 'Nam flashbacks, it looked so much like Shmork's style. I'm 99.9% sure it's just a coincidence, but damn if it didn't make me do a double take. But I highly doubt that Shmorky is working for the most prominent corporation on the face of the Earth. Real fucking wild if he was though and he fucked off and bought a beach house in South America or some shit. Absolutely not though. I'm guessing he's still in his parents trailer, or parent, since his (step)dad was diagnosed with cancer like 4 years ago, which would now put him in a position where he would have to support his mother, as her only income came from her job at The Waffle House. I don't know how well they tip in Mineral, Virginia.
He actually has a completely normal brother who is stably employed at a decent paying job, lives on his own, doesn't talk like a circa 2000BC Chinese Eunuch etc.
But Shmork would be the only one who could actually stay with her and see that she's looked after. Shmorky will not get a job. Ever. The best he'll ever do is e-beg or fill out surveys or donate plasma for cash or something. Or suck dick under the same bridge that Lowtax does for cash. I was with this man for 2 years, and I begged and pleaded for him to do something, anything to bring in income as I was disabled and working 2 jobs and it was destroying my body to the point where I crashed and was bedridden for 3 weeks spewing out of every orifice.
But he yelled at ME every time I asked, telling me that 'get a job' was the worst insult that a human being could slight another human being with. He physically cannot function in any type of workplace setting save for working from home or in a closed up office where no one can see what the fuck he's doing, AND EVEN THEN whatever he's doing he needs to have COMPLETE creative control over. You can see why this narrows down his prospective employment options to slim to none.
Anyway, I've got stories. I can remember what happened better now in retrospect after 4 years of getting sorted out with medication, mental and physical therapy and what not. I probably have shared this before, but one of my favorite Shmorky stories will always be one night when we were checking out at Walmart, and the cashier, a kindly old woman asks in earnest innocence: "Hello sir, are you coming home from a costume contest?"
He says:....."N-n-n-n-noooo...", wrangles me up out of there as fast as he can, and he sobbed the entire drive home, leaving me trying to drive while stifling back laughter for 25 minutes.
