When I became J.P Morgan, I can not say. Over the course of the past year, an elder Filipino co-worker has been approaching me with sizable loan requests. These requests range from $120-$500, all of which have been promptly paid, but that's not why there's a furrow in my brow. Seriously, who the fuck asks a borderline stranger (which most co-worker's are) for a fucking payday advancement? This Boracay canker on my resources recently asked for $300 to feed his second family back home, paid me on the Tuesday following, then hit me up not 5 days later for a $120 loan. I had 2 of the c-notes he gave me not a half dozen calendar days prior still warmly pressed against my backside, I once again obliged. Seriously, what the fuck? I know the obvious solution is to cut him off at the knees, but my one attempt to do so in the past left a major elephant in the room. Shit just felt awkward, like I spat in the face of Manny Pacquiao. The kicker, between he and his wife, they raked in 118k last year. That may be a meager pence when you're feeding 8 mouths, nevertheless, go ask your fucking relatives, and build a line of fucking credit! But above all, keep your longanesa in your pants!
