The Retard Factory/ Aunt Jackie

I used to work at a retard factory in Texas, outside of Dallas. I lived in Texas briefly, where I did lots of D-rugs and got arrested. Texas is where I met my boy Twitchie, and I worked with him at the retard factory. Twitchie’s mom, the Nice Witch of the West, worked there first, and she got promoted, and then we got jobs there. A lot of people could come up to me and say all this stuff about how you’re not supposed to call them retards, or that “retard factory” isn’t a nice thing to say either.

I’ve got 2 basic things to say to people who get upset when I talk about the retard factory or what went down there. 1) The scientific name for someone whose IQ is less than 70 due to developmental problems (aka happened before the age 18) is retarded. These people are, by scientific technical definition, retarded, and therefore, individually, they are retards. 2) Before you talk about being mean to retards, come wipe a retard’s ass in the shower, because that’s what I was doing at the retard factory. For $7.50 an hour.

I don’t even know where the fuck to begin with the retard factory. Think about a giant dorm room full of retarded people, living together in a building that was significantly funded by the state. These tards didn’t have family to take care of them, or their families couldn’t take care of them, so they got sent here. What I’m talking about here, people, is a state-run retard factory for retards who don’t have anywhere else to turn.

I think I’m going to use people’s first names, because I’m not getting into exactly where the place was, so there shouldn’t be any privacy violations.

Darrel- Darrel was a 40-year old retard who had the mind of an 11-year old. Darrel was one of my favorites. A southern gentleman, he would always ask me, “You my friend?” or just “Friend?” One of the control tactics of the factory was the “Coca-Cola note” system. If a retard did something good, you would give him, or promise him, a written note for a free Coke. I would joke with Darrel that I wouldn’t be his friend unless he went to the manager and got a “Friend note” so that I would be his friend for free. Otherwise, I wouldn’t.

Andrew- Andrew was an 18-year retard who had the mind of an 8-year old. He was also one of my very favorites at the factory, even though he could catch a sour attitude. He loved anime and cartoon trivia. His parents never came to visit, even though they lived nearby. When I got there, he refused to take showers and clip his nails. Through niceness and non-abuse, I got him to start taking showers and brushing his teeth.

That’s pretty much all the names I want to get into. Those 2 guys were pretty much my favorites though, Darrel and Andrew.

I would try to teach Darrel how to write his name, over and over. He would write D then A, then he would just draw ooooooooooooooo after the two first letters. Day after day, that’s all he could do. He was pretty fucking retarded.

I’d say the worst part about the whole thing wasn’t the retard ass, it wasn’t trying to feed someone who was retarded AND parapalegic, it wasn’t anything except how shitty the staff treated the retards.

It was weird being a recent college graduate, working around people who didn’t have GEDs who were working for minimum wage, just like me. Me and Twitch didn’t need to work there, we could have easily gotten different jobs.

The other people working there were motherfuckers to the retards. They would steal their old shitty stereos, presents from their forgotten families. They would put retards in choke holds and take them down when it wasn’t really necessary. They would sexually assault and abuse retards when they took them out to the movies.

It was a very sad situation, to see all those people in that place, getting basically no love. I did my best to have fun with them, and be a cheery little stoned fucker. I think I did a great job of taking care of them. I went back to TX about 6 months after I left, and when I visited the factory, all of my old retard friends were so happy to see me, and I was so happy to see them. Friend.

To top it off, there was this old motherfucking retard named James. James was an old white guy, and he was nuts. I think the 2 main things he had were dementia and Alzheimer’s, but he was retarded too, which was a triple whammy. James what was commonly known as a “digger.” Diggers are easily spotted because their fingers and fingernails are dirty brown, like they have been scraping bowls out for resin hits or something. Except really, they’re dirty because they have been digging up the spicy sauce from their butt crack. Retard butt crack.

Never shake a retard’s hand. Ever.

Bonus Clip: The Aunt Jackie

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3 Responses to “The Retard Factory/ Aunt Jackie”


  1. 1 twitch July 9, 2007 at 7:37 pm

    black=retard. friend?

  2. 2 suityourself July 10, 2007 at 12:39 pm

    the guy in the background clapping is my cousin. stoney, you are going to hell and i’ll see you there.

  3. 3 dankknuggets July 18, 2007 at 3:20 pm

    but i can save both your damned souls! just put a couple bucks in my gold plate.


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