Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Merry christmas you utter bastards.

I sound angry, but I do mean it - a happy holiday to all of you, wether christmas means spending your holiday bonus on a week long coke-induced haze, living it up with cold beer and your new games console, or simply trying to drown out your family by eating more turkey.

Just stay the fuck out of my way for the next few days. Actually... No... don't. We can form a squadron... one so powerful that we can collectively kick the arses of every fucking cunt who barges in front of you in line, plows past you without so much as an 'excuse me', or just generally throws a tanty about every fucking little thing. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS COFFEE CUP IS BROWN! UNACCEPTABLE! UNACCEPTABLE! WHAT'S YOUR MANAGERS NAME?! Christ these people piss me off. Almost everyone else can manage to deal with long lines, insufficient stock and crowded streets with little more than a bit of mild annoyance. Not these people, nooooo. They can't fucking deal with it, and become highly unbearable to be around. I say we take 'em out with rolls of wrapping paper & tinsel. Fan fucking tastic.

As you can probably tell, I've just finished up my christmas shopping. The good thing about working in the city is that I'm close to all the shops I need to do my shopping at. The bad thing about working in the city is that I'm close to all the shops you need to do your shopping at. The end result is that I end up waiting well over half an hour in a line with some arsehole fuming down my neck, just to buy a single fucking CD. Once I get the CD and get the fuck out of the store, there is of course the nasty task of negotiating my way back to the office by foot. No mean feat, I assure you. But still, it could be worse... I could be at a fucking shopping centre... say, Northlands. That place is insane enough at the best of times, but come christmas, every arsehole and his 4WD are out and about perusing the carparks for the extremely limited and rare spaces. Why are they limited and rare, you ask? Because these cunts who drive their fucking tanks about can't manage to park in a single space - ever. They also have a general inability to user their manners, or to even display the slightest ounce of logic in their space-hunting quests. Like, leaving enough room for the person who's space they're taking to actually get out of the carpark. It's like they expect these cars to just materialise out of existence just for them and their fucking busload full of screaming children. And lets not get started on those little beasts.

Suffice to say that this christmas seasons' shopping experience has been about as delicate as an elephant taking a dump on a ballerina. And this is exactly why Vomit Girl & Kipper will be buying the prawns from the vic market on Sunday, and not I.

Merry festivities and have a great christmas. And don't get pissed on the roads - the last thing I need is various car parts lodged in my head.

4 comments:

CJ said...

Prawns you say...? Why wait till Sunday...we could but them today and have them sit on the bench in the stifling eat prior to cooking them for Xmas...nice round of Salmonella anyone?

Kipper said...

Salmonella sandwiches. My favourite.

Fandango Jones said...

"We can form a squadron... one so powerful that..."

... so powerful that we could out-Voltron Voltron? Fuck yeah!

Merry fucking Voltronmas!

rantinan said...

Hey fandango, lets make that an anarcho/syndaclyst voltron... we can assign the anarchist component to the rear end...