Reading rosyxxx's journal

Okay. To quote from the movie: The Big Lebowski...

New shit has come to light, man!

Not only is it apparent that there are some major scam artists on the scene at my work... in the form of managers... but somebody stole $300 bucks out of one of the bartenders' registers. Scum.

Somebody made off with $200 out of another bartender's register last week, I believe. My night wasn't very lucrative, but somebody's was... and it pisses me off, because it came at the expense of the peace of mind that a close friend of mine should be having after a long night at work. I'd like to personally kick whoever took the money. What a shitty thing to do.

I heard about it after I sat and listened to someone trying to bend my ears with his spiel about the bright future our club has according to his prophecies and suggestions for allocation of funds, apparently separate from the theft. But maybe not. There was the theft of my time with that one. Why was I, and an unnamed waitress, subjected to an hour of trancelike indoctrination, if this information was so important that the whole club should hear? And why was he pissed when I had to cut him short and leave? It didn't seem appropriate for that kind of frustation. Unless.... I thwarted some evil plan to manipulate individual strippers and waitresses into believing his bullshit. I say this with my tongue-in-cheek, because I think the dude is a joke.

He sounds like a telemarketer to me... and what with having a date with a 'telemarketer', so to speak, I've had enough of those charismatic types. They can take their tamasic little asses and go jump off their own personal cliffs. I don't need it.

And while I'm at it, I am wondering... just exactly who has access to the register besides the bartender? Hmmm? Not that I am pointing any definitive fingers, but I see possibilities...

My mind is made up...not like my bed, which is a mess.

Sounds like you hit the nail on the head.

Don't you just "love" the crap that comes with the slick shit those buggers fling?
Personally I would rather be face to face with a monkey flinging shit, at least you know exactly what it is that they are flinging at you and your not trying to dodge a parcel that explodes when it hits and it's shit inside.

I'm sorry that someone is theiving at work. Those kinds of people who do that crap really piss me off.
I want to take their sticky little fingers and ram them up their nose.
And while I'm doing that tell them if they want something really sticky try there because that's where sticky fingers belong.

I can be such a bitch at times, mostly when I see injustice.
I get hostile at injustice and the nasty bitch comes out, and wants to do all kinds of things fitting to the actions that create injustice.

I guess it's because when people who are hard working and honest get taken and no one fights and then people who arn't honest get away with stuff, and no one does anything, I feel this rage. This wild red rage that makes me want to do very very specific things. I hate injustice, and I see so much of it in the world, and when I hear of more, it makes me rage inside.

Personally I would rather be face to face with a monkey flinging shit...

*guffaws* *slaps her thighs*

I am reminded, here, of a 'Christmas present' an acquaintance of mine at the club gave to one of the bartenders, who used to be known as The Assmaster. She was at the zoo with said friend, and said that she would like to have a pet monkey.

His response was: "Why would you like to have a pet monkey? All they do is masturbate and throw shit all day long." For Christmas he gave her a shoebox. The shoebox was lined with easter egg grass, and unwrapped tootsie rolls. The 'piece de resistance' (to quote Cartman, I think) was a pair of sock monkeys sewn together. On the side of the box he wrote: Masturbating, shit-throwing sock monkeys.

*chortles*

...Those kinds of people who do that crap really piss me off.
I want to take their sticky little fingers and ram them up their nose.
And while I'm doing that tell them if they want something really sticky try there because that's where sticky fingers belong.

Oh, oh, oh... *holds side*... that reminds me of a movie--help me here, I can't remember which one--where some dudes are robbing two elderly Chinese people running a doughnut shop. The old man reaches out his hand like a shot in the dark, and hooks one of the thieves by his nostrils. The thief's partner-in-crime starts screaming: "Get your fingers out of my man's nose! Get your fingers out of my man's nose!" And dancing around, and such stuff. Meanwhile, the dude is just standing there with his eyes crossed looking at his nose with two fingers up it.

So long, and thanks for all the shit and snot...to paraphrase Douglas Adams. *cheezy grin*

Btw, I have noticed lately, that when a lot crap goes down around me, I tend not to bitch out loud as much... but, I find that I have to come home and take a huge crap. Literally. ;D I guess it's gotta come out one way or the other. You can't keep swallowing that kind of crap and keep it down.

And I still remember the day some asshole stuck his fingers up my nose while I was doing a headstand on stage. I was really snotty to him afterwards.... heh, he...he...he......he...

My mind is made up...not like my bed, which is a mess.