Littering, plus Fatass masturbating. Fatassturbating?

So it appears that Fatass's busy day is Tuesday. Why am I just realizing this? Because I generally don't care about his life in any way, shape, or form. I didn't see him at all today, save for when I got home from work. I've been thinking lately, and I've come to the conclusion that in order to make my blog more well-rounded, I have to release my anger about more things. K-Star says it's theraputic, and I tend to agree.

Anyway, The Pissiest Workplace is in one of your typical supermarkets that doesn't have a goofy fucking * in its name anywhere. Tonight I had the good fortune to both clean the bottle return room AND round up all the fucking carts in the parking lot. You may think that the worst part of the night was the bottle room, but you'd be wrong. That was actually pretty tame, compared to what I found in the carts. It was so nasty, in fact, that it's time for another open letter!

Dear Fuckass Twatwaffle Customers With No Sense of Decency or Respect,

If you leave the box to your kid's newest Barbie doll, your food, or your fucking used tissues in your god damn grocery cart, you will be put on the automatic shit list. If you are ever CAUGHT doing this, you will be shot on site by the staff. Got it? Good.

I mean, it's one thing to litter. Just take your damn boxes and put them on the ground in the parking lot. The maintenance guys will be pissed (and rightly so), but you will not be the subject of an open letter on an angry blog.

But about the food. Seriously, do you really think that it's my fucking job to handle those last little bits of watermelon slices you couldn't shove into your fat mouth? What about that yogurt that was half eaten? We have trash cans all over the god damn place, and you had to leave it in your cart? Seriously? How about you do what normal people do and just finish your god damn fucking food! Am I really the only person whose parents told him that wasting food would kill kids in Africa or some stupid thing? It was total bullshit from Ma and Pa Pissy, but it did get the picture across. But even still, you don't fucking leave it in your grocery cart for the help to chuck.

Used tissues. Seriously, that's a what the fuck right there. Sure you could be an old lady who has no business driving a car, let alone a grocery cart. But if you leave your bloody snot tissue in your cart, you're just creating a breeding ground for disease and another opportunity for public humiliation. If you are using tissues, yes they're disgusting after one blow of the horn. PUT THE GOD DAMN TISSUE IN YOUR GOD DAMN POCKET. I do not want your biowaste anywhere near my person, and I swear to Christ, if I find you leaving your tissue, I will sit on the hood of your fucking car until you remove it. If you try to drive away, the cart will be flung as hard as I can into your doors.

Are we clear? We better be.

Yours,
Pissy


So anyway, I get back to the room, and I'm nearly on the floor due to the raunchy smell of rotting fish in the room. I... don't think that's the smell of rotting farts. I think Fatass tried to rub one out, but since he eats so much beans and cabbage, it can't help but smell like high tide at the wharf. First thing I did without even fucking talking to the bastard is throw the window open. If he's going to finger his clit and stink up the joint, I'm going to make sure that he doesn't get to enjoy wafting in the stank of it.

People like Fatass should've been genetically designed to never be able to experience pleasure.