Land of the Wussy Shit Zombies.
Land of the Dead was shit. Shitty shit. It was shit so incredibly shitty that it couldn't be swallowed. The intense concentration of shitful shit created a sort of invincible cornlog that can't be penetrated by the most sophisticated and powerful machinery, nonetheless average human jaws that are simply trying to force the shit impaction of doom into their bellies to compensate for NINE DOLLARS WASTED. FUCKING WASTED. FUCK YOU, ROMERO.
No, really. The point of the movie is that Zombies have feelings, and we shouldn't hunt them, because they are just trying to "find a place of their own." I shit you not, fuckfaces. That was the last line uttered by the worst protagonist in a zombie movie EVER. Sure, let's run away to Canada and let the zombies have the USA, because they are really just lonely beings. Oh, they still feed on the flesh of the living, but we're gotta preserve our hippy mentality as we skip merrily to the north with predators inevitably on our tails. Dudes, oh my God, the movie was so bad. You don't even know. Halfway through, a few people walked out.
Horrible. It was horrible. Such a letdown. So bad. It shouldn't be viewed or touched, not even with a stick. No, I take that back. It can be touched with a stick, but only if a cactus has been skewered on the end of said stick to ass-rape the movie.
I'm so mad. I wish I was cancer, so I could take my rage out on someone's colon every time I got pissed. Romero's colon. Yeah. That would rock. People who make terrible movies should contract ass cancer. Seriously.
In other news, I'm working more than ever, but my shifts are going better. Cash count was perfect yesterday, too. That'll stop Frank from pinning his shit on me. The other day after shift change, he didn't tell me he was short 75 bucks, and didn't bother to give me the forms to sign either. Then he called the Area Coach to try and blame me. 'Course, it didn't work because his safe was still missing 150 dollars after my supposed shortage was factored in. Now, before I turn the restaurant over to night shift, I make sure I've watched him count the drawers and safe, and verified everything. HAHAHA. Since I've been watching him closely, I haven't had a CC problem AT ALL. He's gone in two days, and Cindy comes tomorrow, so I'm happy.
I hired three new people yesterday, and trained them too. Marie and I have decided that once we get a backup team in place, we're going to roll out new store policies in a crew meeting, and have the older staff sign agreements to follow these procedures. With replacements around, they are expendable, and I can fire their asses at first sign of insubordination or theft. I already caught my two oldest employees stealing food, and one of them (Julian) has become so retarded that Marie told me to fire him next time it happens. I hate that Puerto Rican assfuck. He's pissed because I'm white, female and was hired after him, and I have become his boss in only a few months. He *hates* it. So does Alex. But I don't give a shit, because they're the only two in-store folks left from the original Q1 team, and neither of them can cook (they basically answer phones all day. That's it). Kingsley and Eric, two guys I trained Friday and Saturday, have already learned the basics of Back of house operations. Once they learn phones, Julian and Alex will be obsolete.
I have also learned that I am a "nice" drunk. It irks me, since I had my heart set on being either a smarmy drunk or an angry drunk. Grabbing or beating ass is what I should be doing, not listening attentively without interrupting to what my friends are saying. Fuck.
Erin humped a car. ROFFLE.
No, really. The point of the movie is that Zombies have feelings, and we shouldn't hunt them, because they are just trying to "find a place of their own." I shit you not, fuckfaces. That was the last line uttered by the worst protagonist in a zombie movie EVER. Sure, let's run away to Canada and let the zombies have the USA, because they are really just lonely beings. Oh, they still feed on the flesh of the living, but we're gotta preserve our hippy mentality as we skip merrily to the north with predators inevitably on our tails. Dudes, oh my God, the movie was so bad. You don't even know. Halfway through, a few people walked out.
Horrible. It was horrible. Such a letdown. So bad. It shouldn't be viewed or touched, not even with a stick. No, I take that back. It can be touched with a stick, but only if a cactus has been skewered on the end of said stick to ass-rape the movie.
I'm so mad. I wish I was cancer, so I could take my rage out on someone's colon every time I got pissed. Romero's colon. Yeah. That would rock. People who make terrible movies should contract ass cancer. Seriously.
In other news, I'm working more than ever, but my shifts are going better. Cash count was perfect yesterday, too. That'll stop Frank from pinning his shit on me. The other day after shift change, he didn't tell me he was short 75 bucks, and didn't bother to give me the forms to sign either. Then he called the Area Coach to try and blame me. 'Course, it didn't work because his safe was still missing 150 dollars after my supposed shortage was factored in. Now, before I turn the restaurant over to night shift, I make sure I've watched him count the drawers and safe, and verified everything. HAHAHA. Since I've been watching him closely, I haven't had a CC problem AT ALL. He's gone in two days, and Cindy comes tomorrow, so I'm happy.
I hired three new people yesterday, and trained them too. Marie and I have decided that once we get a backup team in place, we're going to roll out new store policies in a crew meeting, and have the older staff sign agreements to follow these procedures. With replacements around, they are expendable, and I can fire their asses at first sign of insubordination or theft. I already caught my two oldest employees stealing food, and one of them (Julian) has become so retarded that Marie told me to fire him next time it happens. I hate that Puerto Rican assfuck. He's pissed because I'm white, female and was hired after him, and I have become his boss in only a few months. He *hates* it. So does Alex. But I don't give a shit, because they're the only two in-store folks left from the original Q1 team, and neither of them can cook (they basically answer phones all day. That's it). Kingsley and Eric, two guys I trained Friday and Saturday, have already learned the basics of Back of house operations. Once they learn phones, Julian and Alex will be obsolete.
I have also learned that I am a "nice" drunk. It irks me, since I had my heart set on being either a smarmy drunk or an angry drunk. Grabbing or beating ass is what I should be doing, not listening attentively without interrupting to what my friends are saying. Fuck.
Erin humped a car. ROFFLE.