Coffin Nails: Mini-roasts · 4:07am Dec 20th, 2015
Greetings fellow small horse enthusiasts and welcome to the first episode of Coffin Nails, the blog series where I get up on my soap box and bitch about the stuff that pisses me off about the fandom and society in general. Originally this was going to be a youtube series, but seeing as how I'm completely inept when it comes to technology you're stuck reading this crap instead. This is probably for the best anyway, after all who really wants to see my ugly mug?
Anywho since this the first episode I thought I would do a mini roast setup covering a few topics instead of one long rant. So without further ado let's get started shall we?
Jobs. Specifically my job. Why should you care about my job? You shouldn't, I sure as hell don't. But what I have to say about it does lead into some of the other topics I wanted to cover tonight. Alright so my job, it sucks...hard... like a five dollar hooker on two for Tuesday. I'm basically a glorified janitor at a gas station in the middle of bumble fuck nowhere Florida. Speaking of Florida, what in the name of Celestia's left teat is up with this weather? The other day it was eighty two degrees out side! Eighty Two Degrees! what in the actual hell man?! It's the middle of December, it should not feel like the ass end of summer when it's supposed to be snowing out! Ahem anyway got a little side tracked there...where was I? Oh right, glorified janitor. Yep I get paid peanuts to clean a store whose only customer base is a bunch of broke ass alcoholics and drug addicts who have the nerve to ask me for money when they come up short on their "alchihall". What booze soaked part of your red neck brain thinks I have any money to spare!? I work in a bloody gas and sip you fucking moron! And even if I did I sure as bloody hell wouldn't loan it to you 'cause you're an alcoholic and that's called enabling and Riot don't do that. And another thing learn to prioritize, if you ain't got the money you shouldn't be trying to buy this shit in the first place. It's like the people who pull up in tricked out cars with twenty two inch spinning rims wearing fancy designer clothes with gold chains and teeth and proceed to buy thirty dollars in junk food with a food stamp card.
That bugs me so much. 'Cause here I am busting my ass making twenty five cents above minimum wage dealing with these bloody idjits who would just as much rob the place (I've been robbed twice in the year and a half working there, not counting all the shop lifting that goes on) as much as pay and DCF has the gall to tell me I make too much money when I can barely feed myself and yet they give these drunkards hundreds of dollars a month. Now don't get me wrong a lot of people out there deserve what they're getting from the state because of their situation. I'm talking about the people who abuse the system just so they can buy drugs and alcohol making it that much harder for single mothers or disabled people to get the help they need.
Another thing that bugs me about my customer base is that most of them think that the store is clothing optional. It's always the ones that need to be wearing shirts that come in too. Like this one guy I get in all the time who I hate with the hot intensity of a thousand suns. He's a grade a jerk wad who always comes in half naked with his ass hanging out making god awful noises with his mouth hole and spouting sexists comments about how "bitches need to be sucking his dick." I'd have beaten his ass already if it weren't for the fact that I'm too pretty for prison. Just shut up, pull your pants up, and put on a faust damn shirt you tub of lard. Seriously this dude has bigger moobs then my ex. Speaking of pants, I think I'll let General Larry Platt sum up my feelings on this. Take it away Larry
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Whelp I think that's enough of my bitching for now. Stay tuned next week where I'll actually talk about something pony related. Thanks for sticking around.
I'm Riot and I just put another nail in my coffin.
-Riot of The Midnight Channel. Ancient City 2015
