Yesterday Tony was laid off.

Upon hearing this news from Nadia about her brother I gave my condolences, and then she filled me in on the rest.

Three months ago Tony was driving the supply truck for his boss’s construction company, who pays him $20 per an hour to get the $15 per hour Mexicans back and forth to the job site with their gear.

Unfortunately, through no fault of his own, on his way to work, while drinking vodka and orange juice, smoking pot and eating Oxys, Tony discovered that this light pole just popped up—like bam!—right in the middle of the hood and Mexicans and tools and boards and nails and tortilla chips and shit were flying all over the place.

The responding Baltimore County Police officers did not test Tony to see if he was drunk—because he fucking rolls stone cold like that and they had no idea. They did, however, find his Oxys and his pot, so those useless, do-gooding rednecks locked him up. Tony spent a month in jail until his boss bailed him out, rehired him, paid his fine, gave him a new truck—and brand new Mexicans too—and sent him back out on the road. It’s house building season, bro!

Well, every week for the last two months, Tony’s boss has been reminding him that he had a piss test coming up this past Thursday. Hell, Tony had more piss test warnings then a UFC heavyweight contender!

Tony didn’t show up for his piss test on Thursday, so his boss laid him off.

Oh well, I suppose that someone else will have to paint the curb with fresh Mexican…