Fuckin ragin bra

Sup, asses. As I promised yesteryear I’m back. And I believe I need to fucking go the extra mile and go fucking super saiyan:

Anyway, as some of you may know I’ve had plenty of jobs. You can say, I’m the swiss army fucking knife of being an employee. I’ve done dishes with retards and rappers, I’ve made tacos, I’ve unloaded pallets, I’ve dealt with conspiracy theorists at Casey’s gas station, and even sold footlong cock shaped sandwiches. But you know which one I hated the fucking most? Working at a movie theater.

I never knew exactly how evil co-workers and customers were until I worked there. Now don’t get me wrong, there are some people I worked with there who were fucking awesome. But I’d say 70% of them are tools and think they are srs business working there. For example, a typical worker will ask you to bring your ticket out and present it to them at the door, while you carry all of you over-priced grease food. Seriously, I know for a fact these twats watched you purchase your fucking ticket at the front of the building. Hell, when your only job all night is to make sure 12 year olds aren’t giving handjobs in the movie, I think you can manage to trust 20 year olds and older into a theater.

Now don’t even get me started on the managers. There was once a FUCKING darsh who’s only power was to watch us sweep and tell us how fucking awesome Modest Mouse was. Seriously, he would be so close watching us sweep..he could literally tell me when my next shit is coming out of my butt. Hell, I have fucking irritable bowel and I poop maybe an average of 5sph (5 shits per hour) and I couldn’t even guesstimate that. Once you wear that fucking tie, or shitty suit you got a Men’s Wearhouse..you’ve made it kid. You now control a bunch of depressed fuckers who want nothing more to throw their faces into the projectors. We also had plenty of management who would hire the 15 year old chicks to work the box office, and continually hit on them. Fucking disgusting.

Want to hear a horror story from there? Yours truly, Claude the nimble was asked to clock in 15 minutes early. So of course I humbly obliged. Upon the first second, I was told there was a problem in the bathroom. You know that’s not a big deal..so I thought it could just be that we’re out of soap or whatever. Before I was even to the water fountains I smelled something. It was a cross between a rotting fish and burning tires. Turns out, someone shit all across the walls. It was almost like Mel Gibson paid me a visit. So to say the least, I was in that bathroom for 2 hours cleaning shit. Then the pervert manager decided to help me, which I’d rather he not.

I know its bad to bash your employer but there was so much darsh in one building it was like going to a Anime convention. And you know what, I don’t feel any remorse quitting twice. I can only name the good people that worked there with one hand. Atleast I got into some movies for free, I’m so glad I saw Eight Below with Paul Walker.

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