Below is an ACTUAL job application that a 75-year-old man submitted to a Wal Mart in Arkansas. The senior citizen was hired because he is freakin’ hilarious. Who wouldn’t hire this guy based off the picture he sent with his application alone?

NAME: Kenneth Way (Grumpy Old Bastard)

SEX: Not lately, but I am looking for the right woman (or at least one who
Will cooperate)

DESIRED POSITION: Company’s President or Vice President. But seriously,
whatever’s available. If I was in a position to be picky, I wouldn’t be
Applying here in the first place

DESIRED SALARY: $185,000 a year plus stock options and a Michael Ovitz
Style severance package. If that’s not possible, make an offer and we can
Haggle.

EDUCATION: Yes.

LAST POSITION HELD: Target for middle management hostility.

PREVIOUS SALARY: A lot less than I’m worth.

MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT: My incredible collection of stolen pens and
Post-it notes.

REASON FOR LEAVING: It sucked.

HOURS AVAILABLE TO WORK: Any.

PREFERRED HOURS: 1:30-3:30 p.m. Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday.

DO YOU HAVE ANY SPECIAL SKILLS?: Yes, but they’re better suited to a more
Intimate environment .

MAY WE CONTACT YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER?: If I had one, would I be here?

DO YOU HAVE ANY PHYSICAL CONDITIONS THAT WOULD PROHIBIT YOU FROM LIFTING UP
TO 50 lbs.?: Of what?

DO YOU HAVE A CAR?: I think the more appropriate question here would be “Do
You have a car that runs?”

HAVE YOU RECEIVED ANY SPECIAL AWARDS OR RECOGNITION?: I may already be a
Winner of the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes, so they tell me…

DO YOU SMOKE?: On the job - no!
On my breaks - yes!

WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE DOING IN FIVE YEARS?: Living in the Bahamas with a
Fabulously wealthy dumb sexy blonde supermodel who thinks I’m the greatest
Thing since sliced bread. Actually, I’d like to be doing that now.

NEAREST RELATIVE …7 miles

DO YOU CERTIFY THAT THE ABOVE IS TRUE AND COMPLETE TO THE BEST OF YOUR
KNOWLEDGE?: Oh yes, absolutely.

She must of had some work done.

Get Silly?, I thought I had to Superman that hoe. Now my Friday nights are way to busy.

Why is the gym turning into Barnum and Bailey’s Ringling circus?, I’ve witnessed some stupid shit over the last year. There is this one cave troll, child eating monster who likes to gather up every known weight in the place and put it on his machine. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ripped the drinking fountain of the fucking wall and brought that over as well. After an hour of talking with everyone within a mile radius and looking at his meat arms from hell, he will finally attempt to lift something. It’s usually just one lift and a whole lot of screaming, then he’ll walk away, leaving some 98 pound kid to try to dismantle his battlefield of weights. And this guy has a shit load of friends that can barely fit through the door. I have nothing against being healthy and strong (I bench press my gym towel), but these guys are really taking it too far. I just wish for one day that I was a 900 beast, just one day. I’d start off my workout experience by driving my lifted Ford through the front door of the gym playing Godsmack, naturally. Then I’d put on my weight belt, gloves, ipod, chalk bag, bat belt and spray on tan, and be ready to dominate. I’d go find the biggest guy working out and slap him, leaving imprints of my massive sausage fingers across his face. After that I’d rip off my clothes like Beowulf and start squatting flat screen TV’s. that I stole from the locker room. At this point a 16 year employee would ask me to leave because my intestines are protruding from my ass, also known as “pink sock”, I’d respond by using him as more weight on my bench-press, this while I’m screaming as if I’m being murdered. If anyone looked at me wrong I’d tear a piece of my arm off and throw it at them, proving that I have enough to go around. All the hot girls would sit upon my chest as if they were bleacher seats. And if anyone asked me who I was, I’d tell them that I came from the mountains and have been eating raw bears while lifting giant fucking rocks. By the end of the day I’d probably have to load up the back of my truck with protein and chicken and find a giant blender to mix it all up, maybe a cement mixer. Just one day.

My hero. R.I.P, wait he’s still alive?

Oh come on, gimme some funny captions. Here’s mine: “Not thorny, but horny.”