What up, homebitchez? It's me again. This has been a serious [censored]-up year for me and my homes, no [censored]. Over the Summer I lost my [censored] job at the Supermarket when I cranked up the difficulty on the checkout belt, and that put my [censored] in a serious crank.

But last couple of months me and my bra Pete got jobs at the hospital, or as I called it, sick [censored] central. No man, I didn't doctor [censored] up and [censored], I emptied garbage pails and swept the floors and [censored] like that. I didn't do any of the menial [censored] like emptyin' bedpans and [censored]. Hah.

So at the hospital they got these TV box thingiees that show those blinkin' lines just like on ER or somethin'. They always show the pulse rate. That's pretty [censored] cool, cuz it's like I'm looking into some dude's heart. So like, 70 beats per minute is normal, and if you're lookin' at like 140 things are starting to wig, right?

Whenever people are really workin' it n' [censored], I always point it out. "134? Right on, man! Give it UP, dawg!" You know, I like gave 'em high fives n' [censored.] Knocked out a few of those arm-tube thingiees. Word. Patients thought I rocked. The ones that lived.

But one time I come in and there's this [censored] old dude, and he's got "new-monia," and some kind of tube in his pie-hole. Well, this old geezer is pushin' 160! I'm like, "RIGHT ON MAN!" And so I like get on the walkie-talkie to Pete. "[Censored] Dawg, you gotta check out this old dude, STAT!"

So Pete comes down there, and I swear to [censored] [censored], this dude was workin' it at 175! That's like a serious fat-dude-runnin'-up-a-hill score, but this [censored] weighed like 80 pounds. So Pete and I are like cheerin' this [censored] on, we're at the foot of his bed like, "WORK IT BABY WORK IT!" I'm all pumping my fists in the air yellin' "W00t old man, w00t!" and it's shootin' up, man, we cranked that old guy past 200. He was all clawin' in the air and [censored]. The high score alarms were wailin' like a [censored] hopped up on [censored] at a rave, I [censored] you not dawg.

But then before we could make this dude hit 220 like a prune Ferrari, a bunch of doctors came rushing in yellin' all kinds of [censored] like, "gimmie 200 cc's of heroin!" or something. I was like, "The dude is 0wning!" and then they kicked me and Pete out. Later, I got fired.

Why does the establishment keep gotta put my [censored] down?