Poop Shute

Day of the Dead.

The Dead meaning me.

Holy Jesus, Mary, and whoever else is holy! What a %$#@! Day.

I just worked about nine and a half hours and got one fifteen minute break in the middle. It might not have been so bad if it hadn't been for the constant flow of very needy, very stupid, and very mean customers.

One old bat actually barked at me to do my job. As if standing there and waiting on her hand and foot and fulfilling her every need wasn't my job, but something I enjoyed spending my leisure time on.

To all you people out there who have no patience whilst shopping and/or have a generally crappy life and feel the need to dump all your bulls**t on every hourly cashier who works his/her ass off to see you get your f**king over-priced digital camera in a timely fashion I have just one thing to say to all of you. And I mean it from the very bottom of my sore feet:

EAT A DI*K. CHOKE ON IT. BURN IN HELL.

I apologize to my readers who are faint of heart and have to put up with the occasional venom from my corner, but just know that if you aren't prone to yelling at a cashier who is just trying his/her best to do his/her job then this is not directed at you. If that is the case then join me in a healthy laugh at these sad, impatient jackasses, or when you are in line behind them
say something to them about it, but whatever you do; don't be that guy.
Nobody likes that guy.
Because that guy should:

EAT A DI*K. CHOKE ON IT. BURN IN HELL.