The shifters are my friends. Shifters are old people who can’t quite walk properly anymore. They usually have a cane or walker and tend not to lift their feet wholly off the ground. Instead they make a wonderful scraping sound as they go. I work at a drug store as a clerk and about two hours into my shift I’m going fucking mad. I usually have about 800mg of caffeine in my blood and I’m twitchin like a bitch. Every song is Bett Midler or Elton John; the customers, humming, bobbing their heads. They need cigarettes, little stuffed animals that play songs with batteries that never die. And Christ they’re buying chistmas gifts cuz they’re already on fucking sale. I just want to tare clothing and chew off nipples, a belly full of pepperoni flesh. I ring up the shit, and I smile “bing! bing! bing!”, my teeth so big and white, my lips hurting, no one can believe I got so many pearly whites. And that’s the part when it would be easy, because their heads look so small, so damn small. But by then the shifters have made their way in, I don’t hear them at first, too damn short to see over the counters. And they’re moving slipping down the aisles, white hair swirling round. They grip coupons, thousands of coupons, they know where nothing is. Maybe when there are about twenty of them, I start to notice their unified sound, their scraping like mice pawing at dirt. I see a couple toddling, waving back and forth. It’s something, just something real to distract me, anything at all is good, and my teeth slide back a little. Nothing is more real then the nearly dead walking, they have been doing it as long as things with legs have have died. I get my lunch; I don’t smack the kid with the snotty nose who has stuck a whole plastic car in his mouth. No one screams, everyone keeps their nipples.
Naw I think I'll just cut their little booties off and tie them around my ears, that'll stop the madness.
They do here, magazines and books too. In fact watch Drugstore Cowboy, rihgt in the begining Diane (Kelly Lynch) browses thru comics in the drugstore. I don't know why I thought of that...
......Dwaine I would never be so overtly cruel, I would only have sprinkled dust in my hair, scratched my scalp slowly, and then turned my head to the side so that my lips resembled the orifice where you might have contracted your little parasite. I wouldn't have said shit while you ran you credit card, maybe buzzed my lips in a wet farting sound. I keep the strictest of confidence. No comics here, just old people, millions of them clawing and ripping at the one package of clearance bendy straws.
You are a weird fuck. You know my theory is people always pick the kind of work they do because they are in some way drawn to some aspect of it no matter how much of a bullshit after school job it is. For example, the morbidly obese zit faced teen working serving up greasy slices of pizza at dominoes, the car stereo/car alarm salesmen who is a car stereo/car theif in his spare time. I am guessing that you also rent movies of old people pornos.
I like allotofbutt, I want a job there so I can steal a hand full of opiates herem si\ome benxodriens threr, meridol (thc GEL tabs) al theother godies,,,
Dan this mean you want to fuck tail pipes because you drive a car? You want to shove eggs up you anus cuz you like scrambled eggs? I’ve heard of some odd variations on Freudian theory but that was plain awful, but unlike you I won’t divert too far. Tail pipes aside you probably do want to fuck your mother.
Before you simple mindedly dismiss the idea I suggest that you think more closely about why someone chose the job they do. If you got anything upstairs you will start to pick up on some shit.
Mostly I like disrupting people, making it so that half of the automated moth mouths who come threw my line everyday CAN NOT give me an automated response. I find it disgusting that most people spend their time trying to shave the ice as thin as possible when it comes to living their lives. I say get a fucking pick axe, and chop chunks out of things, live a little and try to be conscious while you do it. That’s what I get out of work, forcing a few people to see, even if just for a moment. As for the literal translation of my job description, I handle a lot of money, and I move boxes. Neither without large sheets of latex and industrial lubricant would be good for fucking. Though a hardcore vid of a dollar bill and a cardboard box making sweet butt love; well, I might give it one squirt.
this is the kind of mentality brought about by underemployment.... you are not special.... i don't care what they told you at school.... just because you think you're smarter than the ex-base heads you have working with you does not mean that you could teach anyone a single thing "use a fuckign pick axe" i'm sure that might sound KEWL in your head but it doesnt mean anything nor does it apply to 90% of life
Yeah sounds like you’re a mean manipulating fuck all the time. And you merely prove my point by showing that you’re in a bitter state of apathy. You’re the kind of guy I see at my counter and the kind of cold that’s spreading. You can draw me out all day, but bring your own oil, my pickaxe is rusty.
they have it on speed dial, If I can't get my point across with bad spelling and the words Cock fuck and cunt then there is not a point.
elaborate please.... manipulating fuck? all that from three posts? look out everyone there's a new pseudo-intellectual with pseudo-psychoanalytic powers that's surely going to provide us with countless (free) hours of pseudo-psychotherapy........... and yes it could be that i'm quite bitter over life in general and that i hate everyone, most of all myself OR that thought it rather crass of you to try and insult Ulfur and decided you'd be my new penis cushion as for the oil and the rusty pickaxe.... so it's been a while huh?
