You ever want to baste someone in chum and toss them in a gator pit?
Yeah, me either.
Other thoughts include:
A) Some girls should thank god for the invention of the bra. There's a girl at work whose tits look like 2 fireman's boots full of tapioca and malt liquor. Other than pure mass there's nothing attractive about these sweater pigs. They point to Hell no matter what position her body is in and, I imagine, scurry deep in her armpits (still pointing to Hell) during missionary. There's no form to them, they're just lactation bags wrapped in skin.
You could bang this girl doggy style on a 3 foot stepladder and her dilapidated milk wagons would still brush the carpet. She doesn't have sock titties, she has wetsuit titties. Her offspring (before the State took them away or she sold them for crack) must've weighed more than brown dwarfs for the sheer gravitational havoc they wreaked on her poor used up brat-feeders.
They look like a Valkyrie's bra after she got in a fight with Magneto.
B) Acting like a 9 year old ALL THE FUCKING TIME when you're in your twenties is really fucking annoying. There's this one dancer I want to give a plastic bag to and watch Darwinism happen. I have shit living in my bath tub drain that could outwit this bitch at every turn. She are not book smart, she are not street smart. She gets by on on small animal cunning, cuteness and the presence of Floor Assholes.
She insists on behaving like a spoiled, mentally deficient child. To be near her is to crave something to hit her with.
To just shut her up.
You start envisioning all the incredibly fucked up shit you would perpetrate to just shut her up for even a minute.
Her shrill, piping voice is like a sonic auger bit that cuts through the normal audio fog of a titty bar and penetrates deep into your reptilian brain which screams to your primal cortex to shut that bitch up before the smilodons* can zero in and eat your young.
Does she have great tits?
Yup.
Would I bat them around like cat toys?
Sure, provided she'd had a tracheotomy first or had been duct taped until I didn't have to hear her anymore or look at her scrunched up dwarf-Barbie face.
Does she make domestic abuse seem reasonable?
Yup. Commendable even.
C) Welcome to the team, cunt!
We had a girl start last week that seemed so nice at first. I had a feeling she might be a drugged out sellsnatch, but that doesn't necessarily make you a bad person.
Except that this time it did. Girl thought she was immune to basic fucking rules. Kinda like Superman with ta tas and a hoo-ha.
"I have to go now!" She was screaming at 2:15 in the morning*. "I don't have to tip no one out!" she brayed at us Floor Schleps. Manager told her otherwise. Then I watched this inebriated sperm-goblin order her sober friend, who'd already been waiting for almost an hour, out of the driver's seat because "You ain't driving my car!"
This girl was a raging, wasted fucking twat and I sincerely hope she doesn't come back. Maybe she'll have some kind of accident. Possibly involving a medium sized whore-a-vore or an aggravated mastiff that had been abused by a thoughtless, blond el cunte just like her..
Same difference. Different bite pattern.
Look, that's all I have for you damn kids. Now get off my lawn. If you're serious come back next week and I'll let you paint my fence or wax my car or some other euphemism for giving me a handy and then maybe some day you can take the pebble from my hand.
-P'Shing Fat An Tin,
(Mandarin for 'StripperHerder')
*Really? OK, show of hands. How many had to look it up?**
**Be honest
*Dancers can't leave after 2AM. If they're not out the door before 2, they have to stay until we're closed and we have cleared the lot.
P.S. Total side note here, I find I no longer like beers who's after taste is like an obscure Barvarian vegetable. I have been dumbed down and it saddens me. Damn you Labatt's.
