Oh shit, take up the pieces. Oh shit, it's that day. It's Monday, a beautiful

fucking day to be alive. Monday, December 3rd, you bad motherfuckers. Welcome to the church

of what's happening now, my little brother. The flying Julie Sayat. Good morning. Good morning

to you, my little fucking bearded friend. Look at you. Like a little Cuban Jufidela and

shit. I look like I'm fucking sick, if I don't have a beard. I don't know. I like it.

You look ahead. It was totally better. Hit me. Come on, baby. It's Monday. We got a fucking

great day today. Listen, motherfuckers. It's your time. Get up. Wake up. Wash your pussy.

Wash your face. Take the same man out of your fucking eyeballs. Get out there. Gargle with

a listerine. Kill that old pussy breath. Get out there. You get a job. Go mug somebody.

Go do something with your fucking stuff. Go to a library. Read a fucking book. Something.

Knowledge is power, you know what I'm saying? I love it. What's happening, Lee Sayat?

I was your weekend. You filthy motherfucker. It was great, man. I had us relaxed. Huh?

You just relaxed. Oh, I did. But the reason why I had to relax Saturday was that I had a

holiday party. And I don't drink much. But when when you see a open bar and a buffet, you

tore it up. I love the fry that you were all happy and you were all happy. Oh, it's

hammered when you were looking for the chick to fart in your face. He was all fucked up.

But then you don't understand about your job. There's one on the stand. But these people

are going to get you that. They drink you up. Yeah. They get you all fooled up. Yeah.

Then they made you go back to work like a Puerto Rican, 10 o'clock to five in the morning.

What the fuck is wrong with these people? I was surprised they let us go. Like because I

just thought since it was a weeknight and we were supposed to be working, I just figured

the people who had to work couldn't go. But you have a nice time. Yeah, they let us

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