THE HUNTING OF THE GUTTER BARBIES...
Winter. Icy wind, pelting rain...puddles, raincoats and umbrellas...fogged-up windows, runny noses, rosey cheeks...MINI-SKIRTS AND UG-BOOTS! What's wrong with this picture? They should be called "argh-boots". And the skirts, well, they should be called "fabric remnants"...Yeah, being gay i suppose i should enjoy having a clear view of another girls ass without having to strategically bend down...but with the prolific nature of these girls, over exposure is already at a dangerous level. I feel like a pedophile. I dub them "gutter Barbies". They come into work and proceed to sit their bare asses on my sterile food packing bench, swinging their skinned muppet cloven feet like pre-pubescent children - yet i am sure they are at least 16...
"Get off the Bench!" I rant like the aging, envious geriatric that i am - and the look the gutter barbie can throw is enough to make me want to stroll over there, remove a fist full of her lanky locks, and choke her, oh so sweetly, to death. It's that skewed, close one eye, and sneer/pout all at the same time kind of look that you know they have practised in the mirror a thousand times before - and here it is, just for me...i feel so honoured.
ugh....
my Goddess...i am so old.
"Get off the Bench!" I rant like the aging, envious geriatric that i am - and the look the gutter barbie can throw is enough to make me want to stroll over there, remove a fist full of her lanky locks, and choke her, oh so sweetly, to death. It's that skewed, close one eye, and sneer/pout all at the same time kind of look that you know they have practised in the mirror a thousand times before - and here it is, just for me...i feel so honoured.
ugh....
my Goddess...i am so old.