Saturday, December 19, 2015

Don't You Dare Try and Be More Depressed Than Me, Bitch

So I went to grab a pack of smokes on my way home from a script writing session (Angles of Life, most depressing comedy ever motherfucker), and the lady at the gas station was acting all lethargic.

"Debit or credit?" she inquires.

"Debit," I respond. I swipe my card.

"You hit a button before I could enter it in the computer, that's awesome."

I hadn't hit a button, I had merely swiped my card. It was amusing though, so I felt the need to out-depress her.

"We all have jobs we hate," I say to her.

She paused a second, taken aback, and the responded with
"It's just so hot in here." 

"Well it's bitter cold out, there's probably homeless people dying in this weather outside."

Another silent pause followed, and I ended with a "Have a nice night and happy holidays."

Just sell me my boges without bitching and sighing and I won't ruin your night with some reality, yo. I just wanna go home, microwave a slice of Ellio's pizza, throw some natural shredded cheese over the top, and chain smoke my Marlboro 100's in between bowls of dispensary weed. Is that so much to ask?

Apparently it is, as I got hit up on Facebook shortly after arriving home. Here is the chat that followed.

Bitch, I want my Russian mail order bride ASAP. Don't taunt me you troll fuck. And I know, you're*

1 comment:

  1. Are you paying more than $5 per pack of cigs? I buy my cigs over at Duty Free Depot and I save over 60% on cigs.


If you should strike me down I will become more powerful than you could possibly imagine.