Obscurity can be a good thing. Of course, in this case, it falls to pieces. A fine gentleman likes to frequent my job at the wee hours of the morning. Every day, Monday through Friday at 6:30am. Men do have their necessities, and he is no exception. The Illustrious Amoeba. Mighty Morphin' Jack-Offer. Good ol' Bathroom Bandit. Rushes through the front entrance at an ejaculation a minute, to be precise.
I have made attempts to lock up the newspapers before he comes, in sincere hope that he doesn't find them. No matter the obstacle, BB uncovers them as if they were buried treasure. Now, logic reads that should he have a "need", he might grab a Maxim. Perhaps a Playboy. Nope. The New York Post will do just fine. Don't sweat it. Politicians make me horny, too.
So Ejaculator Ranger makes sure that he has the correct newspaper. Because, you know, only the best headlines will do. The God's throne awaits, and this talent has a duty to fulfill. Into the light, into the room, keep the seat down, while I dust off my broom.
10 minutes of a high wear off, and Darth Bater proudly announces his return by saying good morning to me. Soggy, not dry. Hands return the Post to the rack, while I stand nearby, covering my back. Poor customers only want a New York Post, and only one copy remains. Guess who.
One time, I had to use the facilities after this fellow. How do I know what he did, you ask? Simple. Seat up, toilet paper has taken on an unusual form in the toilet. My God, it shall never be safe again.
"chemically engineering ways to laugh in the face of stupidity"
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Damn You, Awful Hosted Insanity Websites!!
Today I deleted a website. Because the hosts were awful. After the 2 days I was signed up with them, they couldn’t even have the good sense to offer me a cup of boiling hot tea. Typical. See if you get a Christmas card from me. No, you shall receive a Hannukkah card instead. And possible a fortune cookie I previously cracked with an awful fortune within, which I then proceeded to glue back together with crazy glue. That’ll teach you, just as you have taught me not to trust 8 foot tall grizzly bears equipped with baseball bats wrapped in a bouqet of flowers. Because it may seem sweet at first, but sooner or later those petals will be leaving a trail of pollen across your neck. Perfect bait for attracting the likes of Edward Cullen, so we may need to set a "fan girl" trap. Yes, yes indeed. So I just have this now. BLOGGER, I love you! Will you marry me!?
Would post mo', but I got work. And you know what they say: "Mo' money, mo' problems." Save for the money part. I just have problems. Enough to share. <3
Would post mo', but I got work. And you know what they say: "Mo' money, mo' problems." Save for the money part. I just have problems. Enough to share. <3
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
CARS! MONSTERS! DOUCHEBAGS! HIGHBEAMS! BARACK OBAMA!
So a couple weeks back it had come to my indisputably superior attention that cars have quite the attitude problem. Whilst hovering ever so slowly over the icy scapes of the interstate late one night, a rogue automobile (or something that looked a lot like one) made its presence known within the nether regions of my car.
This was a very angry car, and although I was already practically creating my own roller coaster ride at a mere 85 miles per hour, this mechanized maniac was determined to one-up me. Can you say, rocket ship? Well I’ll be, I never thought I’d see one so close! Yet here it was, practically ripping my car’s back bumper a new one. Apparently the rear of my wrongfully adorable little car is also considered outer space by some; alternate universe to others.
I glanced behind to find a gentleman inside of said rocket ship sitting far against the wheel, perhaps trying to blast off himself through the windshield should the rocket fail to complete the change to hyperspeed.
Highbeams are such a wonderful thing, too, that they insist on shining them in my face. As if to say, "Hey outerspace! I’m looking for you! How many planets do you have?" Perhaps he was a dentist, and my car was a mouth with lots of cavities to find. I do not know for sure, I’ll have to get back to you on that one.
Assuming he made it safely into space and past the milky way, I will put this thought to rest on the bookshelf alongside my sanity.
Oh, yeah. One last thing. Ever been on the highway late at night, with no other vehicles around, only to discover at that final chilling moment, that a dragon is in your rear view mirror? Damn you, tractor trailers. Turning your lights on when its dark out, making me realize that dragons really didn’t die out, but rather went the way of the transformers and turned into cars, and are currently burning pavement en-route to conquer my pathetic little hatchback. Everything I’ve ever known is now obsolete. I hope you...ALL OF YOU will look twice, no...THREE times next time you encounter a tractor-dragon at night. You have been warned. Until again...again?
This was a very angry car, and although I was already practically creating my own roller coaster ride at a mere 85 miles per hour, this mechanized maniac was determined to one-up me. Can you say, rocket ship? Well I’ll be, I never thought I’d see one so close! Yet here it was, practically ripping my car’s back bumper a new one. Apparently the rear of my wrongfully adorable little car is also considered outer space by some; alternate universe to others.
I glanced behind to find a gentleman inside of said rocket ship sitting far against the wheel, perhaps trying to blast off himself through the windshield should the rocket fail to complete the change to hyperspeed.
Highbeams are such a wonderful thing, too, that they insist on shining them in my face. As if to say, "Hey outerspace! I’m looking for you! How many planets do you have?" Perhaps he was a dentist, and my car was a mouth with lots of cavities to find. I do not know for sure, I’ll have to get back to you on that one.
Assuming he made it safely into space and past the milky way, I will put this thought to rest on the bookshelf alongside my sanity.
Oh, yeah. One last thing. Ever been on the highway late at night, with no other vehicles around, only to discover at that final chilling moment, that a dragon is in your rear view mirror? Damn you, tractor trailers. Turning your lights on when its dark out, making me realize that dragons really didn’t die out, but rather went the way of the transformers and turned into cars, and are currently burning pavement en-route to conquer my pathetic little hatchback. Everything I’ve ever known is now obsolete. I hope you...ALL OF YOU will look twice, no...THREE times next time you encounter a tractor-dragon at night. You have been warned. Until again...again?
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Gas Station Cutback!!
Did you know that gas stations are having cutbacks?! Holy diver, it is a disgrace! And my oh my, I am tired. This adorable little prick has an underlying desire to chug a Rockstar Energy Drink RITE NOW. Not Rite Aid. RITE NOW. Too bad I have to work at a delightfully dissatisfying 6am. Luckily, this will be my last 6am shift there. Thank the Lord above & his sacred candy stash, because I am done. Every last time I go into work at this hour, I am the only cashier (obviously). My sixth sense(s) and all of my other senses have since been enhanced ten fold. I can hear a pin drop in Barack Obama's office all the way in Washington D.C. and these ears will perk up, aroused.
I have customers to thank for this. How &WHY there is a line of 3 people waiting for me to open at 6 on the dot is beyond me. Really, you required that beef shank this early, m'aam? I beg to differ. Naughty. To make the matters worse, I have paperwork & varied cleansing rituals to attend to. So, I turn my back to the register like so:
And just what might I discover? Well, every time I complete a transaction & turn to work, I hear a box of FRIGGING DONUTS touch base with the counter as if they were a space rocket landing on the moon. What a treat! Need I reiterate that this happens each & every time? Every few minutes...for two hours straight until reinforcements arrive. I. Do. Not. Enjoy. This.
Oh, wait. My fault, my fault. Seems this righteous blogger hath fallen off the intended path. Back to the drink/gas station dilemma.
I have a dire need for this Rockstar Energy Cola drink that my local gas station USED to carry. This morning I drove there to get a snack. Although I found the Willy Wonka Gummies completely free of struggle, I nearly passed out from loss of hope when I opened the cooler. They had discontinued it, despite the very true (and not fabled) fact that I bought at least 2 a week. This is an outrage, and I will see to it that I do not purchase any more drinks from that particular section. Of course, the milk, regular soda & beer sections are still fine. I will purchase from there. I am helpless at heart, and being that this station is a minute drive from my house, there is a line to be drawn. Boycotting it completely may prove absolutely fatal.
It is getting late, and from where I am sitting, the pillow is beckoning me. It is wearing an enticing stare and is bribing me with a box if whoppers. Oh, I truly must be going. Maybe someday, I shall tell all of you the legend....of the Bathroom Bandit.
Ta. Ta.
I have customers to thank for this. How &WHY there is a line of 3 people waiting for me to open at 6 on the dot is beyond me. Really, you required that beef shank this early, m'aam? I beg to differ. Naughty. To make the matters worse, I have paperwork & varied cleansing rituals to attend to. So, I turn my back to the register like so:
Oh, wait. My fault, my fault. Seems this righteous blogger hath fallen off the intended path. Back to the drink/gas station dilemma.
I have a dire need for this Rockstar Energy Cola drink that my local gas station USED to carry. This morning I drove there to get a snack. Although I found the Willy Wonka Gummies completely free of struggle, I nearly passed out from loss of hope when I opened the cooler. They had discontinued it, despite the very true (and not fabled) fact that I bought at least 2 a week. This is an outrage, and I will see to it that I do not purchase any more drinks from that particular section. Of course, the milk, regular soda & beer sections are still fine. I will purchase from there. I am helpless at heart, and being that this station is a minute drive from my house, there is a line to be drawn. Boycotting it completely may prove absolutely fatal.
It is getting late, and from where I am sitting, the pillow is beckoning me. It is wearing an enticing stare and is bribing me with a box if whoppers. Oh, I truly must be going. Maybe someday, I shall tell all of you the legend....of the Bathroom Bandit.
Ta. Ta.
Testing...Testing...WHO LIKES PURPLE!?
Hello. I am DigitalRevertion. You may or may not recognize me from my other blog, "Musical/\Revertion." Either way, I am here to party. This blog...is intended to direct attention towards the stupidity of mankind and all its affiliates. In a word, my way of ranting/venting frustrations and exercising with my demons. Just not on the bench-press because I have awful form. I thought purple was appropriate. G'bye.
For now.
For now.
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