The Kragthorpe Diaries VIII: The Krag Needs A Job

Note #1: Warning, this is Steve Kragthorpe's actual diary. We can't control the fact that he has a sailor's mouth and is misogynistic towards women. We can only love him for it.

Note #2: Previous, even less polished editions of The Kragthorpe Diaries can be found here (I), here (II), over here (III), and even right here (IV).  Oh yeah, here (V) too.  And we can't forget here (VI). And the very last version, over a year ago, here (VII).

Note #3: Written in conjunction with @5thYearSeniorWV.

Well Kragtron, it's been awhile since we last talked, but it is time to get in touch with your inner Krag. You've been laying low, avoiding crack rock and hookers, against your better judgment. But now, finally, is the time to let loose. and get a job, because last time I checked, there's no such thing as an LSD tree.

Hell, there are all kinds of fresh face dweebs on the hot seat in the Big East looking for assistants.  What better way to upgrade your program than with The Krag.  The Kragocalypse knows all things good.  Krag knows how to smoke dank, play Dark Side of the Moon and watch Wizard of Oz.  You think Randy Edsall knows that shit?  Yeah fucking right.  Dude's dream job is Maryland.  Krag's dream job is being the Macau version of Charlie Sheen, but with more cocaine. Krag Pao Chicken, y'all!

OK, who is the first sucka on my list.  Looks like 'ol Stew boy.  His offense sucked big donkey dong the last few years, but I think I remember hearing someone through the dumpster walls talking about shit getting real in Motown. All I need to do is talk real fast and slip some angel dust in his ovaltine to get him to hire me.  Kragalicious.  Let's get him on the kPhone, stat.

Stew: Stewart residence, Bill Stewart speaking.

Krag: Bill, buddy, what the fuck is up?

Kragamaleuna: I don't care about none of that shit. Give me a job! I'm a beast in the bed and on the sidelines.

Stew: I'm afraid I can't do that young lad. You see I'm not in charge here anymore. I was fired.

Kragton Churchill: What the hell are you hanging around here for then?

Stew: Well, I love WVU and I need the million dollars to start my own business.

Kragson 5: Squinting like a retard is not a biz model, Stew Paterno.

Stew: No Steve, it's a new brand of couch plastic that doesn't make noise.

Kragtober Sky: Oh shit, I love couch plastic.  We use it all the time at Tuesday Orgy Club.

Stew: I'm not sure that's our target market.  Want to hear the name?

Jefferson Kragplane: Fuck no.

Stew: It's called We Must Protect This Couch!  Get it?

Lake Titikragkrag: Shit, that just made Little Krag go flaccid.  That's a war crime in The Krag's book, motherfucker.

Stew: You know I don't approve of that kind of language, Steven.

South Kragalacky: Fuck it then, Stewman, are you gonna give me a job or not?

Stew: Absolutely not.  You make Jeff Mullen look good.

The Geneva Kragvention: Low blow from a dude in a sweater vest.

Stew: ...which I didn't find in a dumpster.

Tropical Kragpression: Point taken.