With apologies to Gravekeeper for ripping off his format.
*Irked. It's Marl... MARL DAMN YOU!* "ID please."
"Uh... yeah, I left that at home..."
"Sorry, can't do it then."
You forget your ID, I can understand that... if you forget it in the CAR. But then to get in said car and drive away? Ah, to have the local cops on speed-dial....
$100 Must Be Banned.
"Here." *Whips out $100*
*Eye twitch* "Let me see if I can break that..."
"It's all I got!" *whining voice*
I don't give a flying *MULTICENSORED* rat's hemorrhoidic shaved ass if it's the last monetary bill on the planet. WE'RE NOT A GODDAMN BANK! Go there with your penile enhancer, I mean, $100 dollar bill.
Afterthought: I've noticed that construction workers and gang-banger wannabes are notorious for this BS. Any body else have this problem with these particular groups?
Food Stamp Follies
*NOTE: My family has been on food stamps in the past, so we know what it can be like to have people look down on you because they automatically think you might be a welfare leech. It was a horrible time in our lives, and I hope we never have to go through that again.*
Lady, you have my sympathies. No, really, you do. I've can see how the world is unjustly treating you. I mean, those fancy nails must have cost at least
$125 to have done. And all those silver and gold chains around your neck that cost more than my first car did? I can see how they present such a heavy burden upon your shoulders. But look at you! You forge ahead, acting like all is right in the world as you loudly boast to your friends on your Motorola KRZR and shell out enough money on lottery to finance me a new car. Such shamelessness is OBVIOUSLY just a keen ploy to keep your detractors at bay! My hat is off to you! (Only because it makes using a scope more difficult.)
To the trailer trash family that stormed my store like the Allies storming the beaches during D-Day, you have done the truly impossible. You have instilled fear in my cold, cynical heart.
It wasn't enough listening to the (grotesquely) obese wife discussing rather loudly the merits of certain sexual positions in the kitchen. (WHY GOD?! WHHHYYYYYYYYYY!!!?!?!?!???!!!?!ONE!!) Nor was it enough that I could taste the stink that surrounded them like a shroud of intellect-repellent. No, they had to create the ultimate in horror, a horrific amalgamation of pseudo-punk and pure-blooded trailer trash redneckism.
The Mohawk Mullet.
Congratulations, people. Never have I wanted to beat a kid so badly for something he obviously has no control over. I hope you both fall into a pit of rabid gerbils, and the kid gets adopted to a fabulously gay couple and becomes a fashion designer.
I have tasted the fall of humanity, and it tastes of stale body odour and Fritos.
More Child Annoyances
Thank you ma'am, for not bothering to control your children and subjecting me and my headache a la Riverdance with workboots to the ape-like shrieks of your hairless, ape-like shrieks of your mutant monkey progeny. It truly inspired me about your parenting skills, seeing you buy them candy and slushies at a quarter after ten. Never has my decision to not reproduce been confirmed so hard. I hope they snap, and eat your body in a sugar-induced haze of insanity.
Yes, I shut off the pumps because you were on your cellphone.
No, I won't turn it back on until you turn the damn thing off.
Yes, I saw the Mythbuster's episode.
NO, I'M NOT GOING TO TEST THAT! (Fucking MORON!)
Yes, there ARE signs out there saying "No cellphones while pumping."
No, I really don't care if you go to another station. Hess is right down the street. Oh, yeah, they have "No Cellphone" signs there too. Have fun kayluvyubuhbye!
I'm starting to see why they won't let me carry a shotgun to work. Unfortunately, I'm not liking the reasoning behind it.