What Grinds My Gears #12 (part 2): Music Jerk Offs

Check out this craigslist posting I came across for a drummer:



Did you catch it? How about now?



A 12-inch penis is one thing. A 12-inch clit is....well, female WWF wrestler shit. I don't understand.

I sent them an email in hopes to clarify what the fuck is going on:

"You looking for a drummer or someone to do porn? What the fucks with the 12-inch dick stuff?"

It is the San Fernando Valley after all. Clearly, I'm spending way too much time pondering this bullshit.

What Grinds My Gears #12: Music Jerks

Below is an ad that was recently posted on Craigslist.com looking for a drummer and bass player. Please note the bold font, always the sign of brilliance. Also, pay close attention to the end of this work of English magic:

"Hard Rock glizt glam Gloom Bass players and Drummer WANTED!!! (HOLLYWOOD )

Reply to: gigs-875844997@craigslist.org [?]
Date: 2008-10-11, 8:58PM PDT


YEAH SO WE WILL BE DOING SOME SHOWS IN LOS ANGELES AREA AND NEED A BASS PLAYER AND DRUMMER. SO ARE YOU READY TO ROCK? AND JOIN ONE OF THE BANDS THAT ARE IN A HARD ROCK GOTH GLAM PUNK STYLE
HERE IS THE DEAL WE ARE A FULL BLOWN RECORDING ACT, SO SEND YOUR MY SPACE,PICS, OR WEB SITE PAGE TO US AND WE WILL TAKE A LOOK. THIS IS FOR THE PLAYERS THAT WOULD LIKE TO JOIN A GROUP AND PLAY, NO MUSIC WHORES NEED APPLY ONLY BECAUSE WE ARE NOT GOING TO BE INTO PAYING YOU TRYING TO CHUMP MONEY FOR GIGS AND REHEARSALS AND YOUR TIME MAKING EVERYBODY THINK YOU CAN CUT A SHOW WITH ONE REHEARSAL"


This upset me. Instead of applying for this "glamorous" position, here's what I wrote back instead:


"Hey Genius,

I saw your ad in Craigs List looking for a bass player and drummer and a few things went across my mind. So I thought I'd share.

You know, some of us actually are competent enough musicians to be ready for a gig in one rehearsal; apparently that's a skill you are so far from fucking fathoming that you're required to resort to insulting those of us who can do that.

Oh, and some of us actually do deserve to be paid for our skill. Imagine that? Some of us didn't just pick up an arbitrary instrument a few years ago for the sheer intention of fucking bar whores and living in a delusional fantasy land about our impending fame in the rock world. We don't call it "chumping" for money; we call it "getting a paycheck." Just like any other job. (Notice I'm separating my points frequently. I want to make sure you read this whole thing, and I know that makes reading easier for mongoloids.)

Some of us have worked our whole lives at our craft, and yeah, might feel like a little compensation would be fair for our years hard work. I know you're probably just thrilled to get a few free drinks as payment from the shitty bars you "play" at, so I'm not at all surprised by your logic.

Oh, and some of us don't have to play dress up to mask our complete lack of musical talent, you fucking glam rocking douche. Now, THAT'S what a call a fucking whore!

I'm so fucking sick to death of you fucking cunts who are saturating LA with bullshit. Next time you approach musicians to help you out in whatever it is that you want to call what you're doing, maybe you'll have the common fucking sense to not insult those whom your going to rely upon.

Have fun crashing and burning in this city with that attitude, fuck head."

Your pal in Christ,
Daniel

What Grinds My Gears #11: The Olympics

I know the Olympics are long over, but for some reason people are still talking about it. So I'm going to.

The Olympics are gay. The whole thing is stupid. And every time I say something like that everyone gets so offended. All of a sudden I'm not patriotic, and I'm a dick because I put down an American athlete. 

The Olympics may be a representation of our country, but it's not war. So shut the fuck up about it. It doesn't matter. It's people in an international pissing contest and I for one am sick of it. I'm allowed to not like it. It doesn't mean I don't like our country. It means I think there's no reason to see who can run the fastest within our country...or the world. Is there really a need for that? If I can slam my nuts on a rot iron fence longer than anyone else, does that mean we should create an international competition for nut slamming? What? You think that's stupid. Well, you're just being unpatriotic, and I don't appreciate that.

The Olympics are gay, you're gay if you like them, Michael Phelps is gay and fuck off about the whole stupid thing.

This Guy Shit Himself

So, I was walking back to the ship in Nassau a couple days ago, and happen to pass by this guy that absolutely shit himself silly. I took a picture.

What Grinds My Gears #10: People From Other Countries

While the title of this blog might be misconstrued as racist, I assure you....it kind of is. 

Actually, no it isn't. It's more about cultural differences than anything racial. Because let me tell you, these fuckers on this shit have a complete and absolute utter lack of the following:

1.) Sense of personal space

2.) Common manners

3.) In many cases, personal hygiene

4.) A cerebral cortex

Okay, the last one might be a bit far, but I'm seriously pissed off. And I don't want anyone to read this and think me to be some kind of uppity white asshole, but the fact of the matter is that if these people would just fucking act normal then I think we could all get along.

Let me just use a couple of REAL LIFE examples, things that have happened and continue to happen to me on a daily basis.

Example #1: 

I'm walking down a narrow hallway. Some asshole from Jamaica, who happens to be huge, is walking toward me. Now, in this situation, what do you think this guy would do?

a.) Politely move and rotate equidistant to the amount in which both of us can pass comfortably

b.) Not move at all and act like I'm not there, forcing me to completely rape the opposite wall in order to get by.

c.) Remove pants and rub shit all over the walls.

If you chose letter "b", you'd be right. 

This is a constant occurrence on this ship.

Here's another one, just in case you thought I was nit picking.

Example #2:

I'm in the cafeteria,  and a shit load of people are milling about. How do you think non-Americans behave while trying to retrieve their food?

a.) Calmly wait in appropriate lines for food, allow proper right of way to occur and provide a decent level of personal space among those around them.

b.) Act like absolute fucking primates by running around, cutting in lines, cutting normal people off at every given opportunity and constantly crowding your shit.

c.) Remove pants and rub shit all over the rice and curry trays.

If you picked anything other than "b", you should be punched in your face --- by now it's obvious. 

The sad fact is, I'm not hyperbolizing this situation one iota. This is the way it is, I've talked to plenty of other Americans about it. Yet, (and here's what blows me away) if you talk to someone from another country, they insist that Americans are the most rude culture.

Yeah, you fucking want to know why? Because we're sick of your shit!

My First Reference Letter to Royal Caribbean

Royal Caribbean requires several "professional" references in order to get hired. I made the mistake of assuming certain people would fall in line with this "professionalism."

With that said, here's the response Maritza, a smart-ass co-worker whom I listed as a reference, took the time to write for me.

1. Position held: Staff writer for the Highlander Weekly Newspaper

2. Dates of employment: March 2007-July 2008

3.Daniel Fritz pretty much sucked the entire time he was employed by
the San Gabriel Newspaper Group. He showed up about two hours late
everyday. If he was to get any kind of award, it would be for the
laziest person in the office (inside and outside of the editorial
department). His hours were spent throwing yellow Starbursts at me
and sending this candy company angry e-mails, demanding that they
recall their lemon-flavored Starburst. And although he couldn't even
finish his stories by our Friday deadline, he did make sure to have
plenty of blog posts for his personal Website on Multiply, titled
Daniel's Place: Almost as fun as Darfur! But other than his profane
use of language, inappropriate commentary and extreme temper tantrums
every time something hit his car on the freeway, he's an all-around
OK guy. I guess.

4. Daniel's main responsibilities were to cover three cities: La
Puente, Covina and West Covina. Most weeks, we were lucky if he
didn't forget to put in a photo assignment for an art with lines for
his covers. In short, he just really sucks.

Ratings: (Based on a scale of 1 being below average, and 3 being excellent)

1.Reliability: 1

2.Organization: 2 (he just this rating for the sheer fact that his
desk was clean most of the time)

3.Time Management: 0. Don't even get me started here.

4.Attendance: 1 We all usually get in by 10 a.m. We were happy if
Daniel got in by 11:30 a.m. Then he would take a two hour lunch at
Carl's Jr. then spend the rest of his days looking up pick up lines
on the internet. He pretty much used up all his sick days in the
first two months of the year.

I guess I'll be sticking around after all.

Yay, the Lakers ate shit and died

I really could give a shit less about basketball. But knowing how many angry LA assholes there were last night makes my heart skip a beat. "D-up" indeed, fags.

Larvets: Perfect for the half man/half lizard in your life

I found these at a gas station on the way up to Lodi recently. Yes, these are real fucking larvae covered in cheese.

Now, I know that in different countries, this kind of diet is fairly normal - which is why I was blown away to see it in central California. The weirdest part was that this was one of the last few boxes of this shit --- an indication that there are, in fact, some fucking rednecks out there in the middle of nowhere with dried pieces of worm stuck in their teeth (and loving every minute of it no doubt)

Apparently, these are made by HOTLIX (www.hotlix.com), a company that specializes in creating food for those who just aren't satisfied with their snack food unless there's a goddamn insect to munch on. This shit is sick, and I venture to say anyone who eats this horseshit is most likely about to either rape a baby or kill a baby. (Equation: Worms + Human Food = Baby Homicide)

The HOTLICKS website that sells these says:
Original Worm Snax in BBQ, Cheddar Cheese, and Mexican Spice flavored worms for your snacking pleasure. Savor the CRUNCH!

Savor the crunch? Ever head of peanuts asshole?!

ZOMG

I don't have any clue what this means, but I LOL'D my ass off......so that's a good enough reason to post it.

Baby Got Back

This baby from China recently had a dong removed from it's back. 

The condition is called FIF, which obviously stands for what the doctor said on arrival: "FuckIng Fagat!"

I think they should have just let him hold on to it. If he turned out to be gay, this kid would eventually cause the ol' reach around to be somewhat antiquated. Zing.

Breaking Manuel Uribe (my hero) Update!

My hero, Manuel Uribe, also known as the world's fattest man (at 700 lbs.) recently became engaged to wed this Claudia Solis - who has accepted the challenge to embark on the necessary treasure hunt to find his johnson. However, shockingly, Uribe, in an AP story said, "We have sex, and in the eyes of God we are already married." 

He's mostly just saying that to rationalize the fact that he can't walk her down the aisle to be married in the eyes of his (no doubt mortified) in-laws.

And despite his innumerable fat rolls, Manuel, who used to be in the neighborhood of 1,200 still refuses to wear a shirt for some reason - even around his lady. Classy!

 

Loving Annabelle and shit

So, in, I don't know, 2005 I think, I was a glorified extra in this super gay movie, "Loving Annabelle." It won some indie film awards I think.

Jake Newton, who apparently was cast as some chick's brother and singer of this band in the film, called in his real band (including me) to be in a party scene.

You can watch a scene which features Jake, the band and a slowed down version of his song, "Awake," here: http://www.logoonline.com/movies/movie/302371/trailers.jhtml

The sections you want to look at are 8 and 9 - those feature Jake and the band.

You can watch the whole movie on this site if you like. However I don't recommend it.

Classic Engrish: Double Happy Dog's Pets

So, there's this pet store right across the street from the Carl's Jr. where I often eat. Every day I sit and stare out the window at this bit of English magic.

Finally, today I got too curious and ventured inside the pet store.

The owner was a Vietnamese guy with a harelip, and after I casually walked around the hot store looking at sad looking animals in small cages, I asked, "What's the name of this store?"

In a matter-of-fact tone he said, "Double Happy Dog's."

A paused for a moment and then said, "Yeah, but what does that mean?"

"It's the name of a pet store."

Then I said, "Yeah....but 'double happy?'"

"Yeah, it's like really good happy."

"Oh," I said, and nodded like I had just learned something valuable. (The only thing I really learned is that this guy saw nothing wrong with having your fucking business name be absolute jiggerish)

I took a picture of the store.

For as much as Americans complain that immigrants need to learn the language to be a productive citizen, you'd think that an immigrant wouldn't be so flippant about not knowing the language at all.

I'm sure the store will do really well.

So, exactly how much shit are we supposed to swallow?

My New Hero

Check out this public service announcement from my new hero, crazy old guy Jack English. When I'm his age, I only hope I can be this wise.

What Grinds My Gears #9 Part 2: Yellow Starbursts

I have decided to launch a full-on harassment assault on these pompous assholes over at the so-called "Starburst Company." Apparently, the big wigs over there feel that the voice of the people just isn't worth concerning themselves with. Well, listen up cunts: This is one voice that will not be silenced. Until I, at the least, get a response, my emails will NOT cease.

Therefore, the following is my most recent letter to the dickholes at Starburst who seem to think we enjoy chomping on yellow pieces of ass candy:

"Hey Fagats,

I emailed you dick-lickers a couple weeks ago, and my request for retribution has gone totally ungarnered! This is absolute bullshit. Do I really need to email you people twice about this? Get your shit together, and halt production on your god-forsaken yellow Starburst product line. At least put a poll up on your website, and find out who actually likes yellow Starbursts. Ever think of that geniuses? You're so fucking brilliant to come up with the formula for yellow Starbursts, but apparently you can't wrap your mind around the concept of research and development. Fuck your mother.

I'm seriously tired of this. I'm very, very exhausted from throwing yellow Starbursts at my co-workers; they are also tired of having yellow Starbursts thrown at their face. You should come out with a 'pink only' series or something. You fucking idiots.

Why would you INCLUDE the best possible flavor, and then fuck it all up with these other lackluster flavors. You're fucking retarded.

Yeah, I have idea: I think I'll write and perform the most popular song. Then, instead of trying to write other songs like it, I'll just make some really shitty ones and throw those on the album. Do you understand that metaphor fuckers? Or is that over your Starbursty heads?

Figure it out, and get back to me on this. You could totally start the "Think Pink" campaign, in which you only sell pink Starbursts. That would be genius. But of course you won't do that because you're all absolutely queer."

I'm sure to hear back from them this time. Goddamn assholes.

What Grinds My Gears #9: Yellow Starbursts

The following is an email I wrote to Starburst concerning my distaste of their fucking yellow-flavored candy:


"Why in the fuck would your company continue to produce yellow Starbursts? They fucking suck. I don't know a single person who actually eats those goddamn things.

When I come to a yellow Starburst, do you know what I do with it? I fucking throw that shit across the room because it tastes like Pledge. Stop with the yellow Starbursts. I'm seriously pissed off about this. If my requests go ungarnered, there will be some serious hell to pay.

I love red, orange and pink. Why can't we just end it there? Why do we feel like the fucking spectrum has to be included? You know what? The entire spectrum sucks balls! Red, orange and pink is all you need to know. Don't you guys to do any fucking market research? Or at least survey? Here's a survey: Yellow is shit!"

I haven't heard anything back from Starburst yet, but if I do I'm sure it will be a sincere apology and a quick discontinuation of their yellow flavor. Otherwise I'll kick them in the cunt.

Wow, I'm insane

Three years ago I had a Xanga account for my blogging needs. Do you know what Xanga is? Of course you don't. That's why I stopped using it. It's gay. Anyway, I ended up posting a total of about six entries, and then I think I must have just gotten bored with it.

As I was re-reading the posts today, having not looked at them since I posted them three years ago, I realized that I'm (arguably) much more level-headed now than I was at that time. And that's saying a lot. Just to give you an idea, my username was "Meganutsack," and the name of my blog page was "Meganutsack Central." I really cornered the market on nutsacks that were apparently mega.

These posts, which are totally unedited, are completely bizarre....and yet totally fucking hilarious. Enjoy.



Sunday, May 15, 2005


Woah so this is blogging....pretty masturbatory. And boring. I need to get my xanga site out there in the pubic somehow. Let me know if you assholes have any ideas. Oh yeah nobody looks at this waterlizarding thing so how am I suppossed to get advice? That's like a crotch 22! (I was going to either say that or catch 69. I kind of like crotch 22 better) Well I'm going to go smack around some nutsack.


Wow, my first post on the thing. I must really be a narcis...narcisss narcissitt I must really be arrogant to want to write a bunch of shit that only I will laugh at. I suspect this xanga guy is gay because he wanted to know so much information about me a minute ago. Why does he want to know where I live? So he can come anally rape me? Did I spell anally right? Is there a spellchecker on here? Is "spellchecker" one word or four?


Sunday, May 15, 2005


Hey check out that picture of me dancing with some gay guy. Afterwards we both raped a horse together.


Monday, May 16, 2005


Well shit. Our apartment really blows cats. I swear to genitals, every time I'm in the goddamn bathroom my roommate has to take a dump and every time he's in the bathroom I have to take a dump. We're both reeaaaally like like like umum um like stubborn so we usually end up taking dumps on each other. I can't wait to move into a house that has fifteen bathrooms. Then what I can do is to split up my shitting; let me explain. I would want to take advantage of every goddamn bathroom in the house so I would start to take a real huge shiza in one, let my sphinkter cut it off the poo matter about one sixteenth of the whole of the crap, then run to another, keep dumping, cut it with sphinkter, run to another one....you get the idea. I'd do that until I shat in all the toilets in the house....all fucking fifteen of them! Aw shnap. Plus I would get one whoring good workout, not only my sphinkter muscles but also my legs from running from toilet to toilet. Let me know if you assholes find a house with fifteen bathrooms.


Wednesday, May 18, 2005


Let's see if any of you assholes can relate to this: Does taking a huge crap and clogging the toilet make you feel like a big man? Well it makes me feel like a big man. Take today, for instance. I took this gargantuan dump....I mean it was a juggernaut of a shit...shitacular you might say. So, needless to say, on the first flush I clogged the shit out of that toilet. I was like, "yeah bitch toilet, I own you!" Then I flushed it again, thinking that overflowing it would boost my ego a bit more. But, on the second flush, the whole motherfucking pile goes down no problem! Son of a whore! That's some real horseshit! Again, I was reduced to an individual that has no power over man nor toilet.

On a brighter note, I don't know what's going on with captain sphinkter these days. I can't seem to finish a crap. It always stops midway so that I have to wipe my ass fifty fucking times till I'm practically menstrual out of my ass. I swear, my rectum is taking a harder beating than Elton John after a sold out concert in West Hollywood. You know what I'm sayin'! Sheeeaat.


Tuesday, June 14, 2005


No one takes these jew spanking blog things seriously. You know why? Because everyone does this gay shit. That's why. If I was the only one and I said, "here here I have a new bullshit waste of time to propose everyone listen up: from now on I will sporatically write masturbatory bullshit and everyone shall look forth in mild amusement....no no I mean hysterical amusement because after all....this is the first ever web nutwacking waste of time. And I will call this horseshit.....blobbing...no I mean blabbing. Yeah blabbing."

SO this is my fucking blab about myself. Everyone's so gaddamn focused on themselves that they just want to write about themselves and then they actually have the mammoth nutsack to think that some other cunt shit would want to read about how they went to the supermarket and banged Pierce Brosnan in the poultry aisle. Is there a poultry aisle? Who gives a shit! You don't! You shouldn't! I know that for a fact because no one in their catscrewing right mind would ever sit on thier nuts and read some gaddamn horseshit about boning Pierce Brosnan in the crackerjack center at the supermarket. Ga!


Friday, July 29, 2005


Hey fuckers it's me again...that's right, Yourmom! I like to refer to myself as Yourmom because in a sense I'm giving birth to a new way of thinking: that is to say, a way of thinking which does not discriminate against black or white or yellow or poo-flavor...no this thought mechanism doesn't do such things. I don't hate jews or africans or even frenchy fig-eater types in a different way than I hate my next door neighbor (well, she IS armenian but just ignore that). No, I hate all peoples equally, not showing favor to one or the other. I think in this way, we can have a fairly even spread of hatred, and if there is any kind of genocide coming this way everyone will be confused when it comes time to memorialize the day of the genocide because it wasn't just one race that was destroyed....it was little parts of all of them. This mere confusion will then cause hatred among races because of thier disagreance on how to celebrate the genocide day and this will, in turn, cause more hatred, then there will be innevitably another genocide because of their agruements and so on and so forth. What a waste of time that just was.
But you pieces of fagatshit get the idea, don't you? So, if you hate white people or south-east Asians, just realize that the black guy in the Escalade is probably just as irrating as them so you should hate that guy too. Unless you want to be a racist you piece of dogshit.

What Grinds My Gears #8: Ankle-sized potholes

The other morning I did my usual routine:

Wake up.
Realize I'm awake.
Wish I wasn't awake.
Realize I have to stay awake.
Contemplate killing myself.
Realizing that would hurt.
Forcing myself out of bed.
Driving to Starbucks.
Getting iced coffee and coffee cake.
Driving to work.
Getting out of the car.
Walking to my desk.
Sitting in, about or around my deskal region.
Working and things, with stuff.

Well, this particular morning, when I got out of the car with my coffee and coffee cake, I made my way across the parking lot to the office. I stepped off a planter that's raised about an 3 inches off the ground, and set my ankle firmly in this ankle-sized pothole.....and rolled my ankle like a mo-fuck.

The pain was super fucking awesome, and I immediately fell on the ground and dropped my coffee cake. I immediately uttered phrases that, if I was already in the office, would have got me a first-class ticket to Human Resources.

At first, I thought I broke my ankle. But then, after I wiped my tears and changed my crapped-in underwear, I could get up and slowly walk on it.

The ankle was swollen for a while, and remained uncomfortable to walk on for the next few days.
It's one thing to almost break my ankle. It's another to drop my god damn coffee cake. That's not acceptable. I'm thinking of contacting Potholes America Inc., and complaining that their operation to install potholes in dangerous places is far too efficient.

Then I'll kick them in the cunt.

Goodbye Wii, you assmunch

Here's the listing photo in which I happily placed on ebay today. This fucking piece of fuck sold within 10 minutes of it being listed. Apparently there's a huge demand for absolute shit on a stick.

It sold for $325, which will be put toward much more useful things, like ant poison and light bulbs.

What Grinds My Gears #7: The Fuckin' Wii

Yeah, I said it. The Wii sucks donkey bizzalls!

Well, as the story goes, we were sooooo excited to get this thing. After hearing all these assholes talk about how fun it was, how Nintendo had really harnessed the technology of human motion and brilliantly incorporated it into their games, we were super anxious to open it up and try it!....well, it turned out to be some A#1 horseshit!

You'd think that a console that markets itself to kids and to "party" players would have some good quality two-player games. Well, apparently that was far too lofty of an idea. All the two player games lick nutsack till the break of dawn. Sonya and I tried the Big Brain Academy game, which should be called Big Huge Piece of Fecal Spooge On My Head and Smear It In Academy For Bigtime Fagats Who Enjoy Wasting Time and Getting Pissed Off At Games Cause It's Too Bitch-Ass Difficult To Play and Oh Yeah, The Use Of the Wiimote is About As Innovative As A Horse Taking a Dump On A Fuckin' Cottongin.

Or some variation of that. It blows cats, that's all you need to know.

Then we got this other fucking game....called "Party Games" or something like that. Basically, it's a collection of crap games like darts, a stupid trivia game, shooting faggy hoops, boccie ball...what the fuck? And of course, it incorporates the use of the Wiimote into all that horseshit. How is it, you query? Doesn't work for the most part. I spent most of my time swearing at it, flailing my arms around like some kind of deranged bird that's just been shot in the ovary, and then cursing the day Nintendo released this big hunk of $250 shit.

Then we rented some fag game the other day where fucking Sonic is on some sort of snowboard...except it's not a snowboard because there's no snow. There's also no fun.

So fuck you Nintendo, fuck you Wii, fuck you people who like the Wii, you should all take a baseball bat and fuckin' point to the goddamn outfield Babe Ruth style and then knock that shit out your third-story apartment window, just like I plan to do.

Okay, maybe I'm going to sell it on Ebay, but...you know...same thing.

What Grinds My Gears #6: Lazy old people

Look at this fagat! (see above fagat)

So, I'm sitting in the usual place I go for lunch the other day, which is a SERVE YOUR FUCK FUCK SELF sandwich place.

This means that even if you're old as shit, you need to SERVE YOUR FUCK FUCK SELF!

But apparently this particular asshole (see above fagat) didn't get the message.

Because I'm sitting there like a human eating my sandwich, and I look over to see this dickhole (see above fagat) of an old guy, out of no where, just raise his fucking soda cup into the air and hold it there for a good 30 seconds, clearly expecting somebody to come running over and refill it with the swiftness of Karen Carpenter's gag reflex.

Well, no one came to his aide.

He then proceeds to look around, as clearly no one is paying attention to him----probably because it's a SERVE YOUR FUCK FUCK SELF sandwich shop! There is a goddamn soda fountain by the counter, and humans typically go over to it and fill their shit up!

Apparently not if you're an old fagat.

If you're an old fagat you probably expect people, who are in the back of the kitchen and in reality can not by any means see you, to be watching your old ass closely, just to make sure you don't require any type of personal assistance. Fagat!

At this point, I realize I'm pissed off by this old fagat's presumptuous behavior, and so I walk around and make sure I get a nice little shot of this dickhole with my brand new iPhone. Yes, that's right, iPhone. Did I mention it's brand? And also new? Happens also to be an iPhone....also. ALSO!

Anyway, the next time he raises his fucking cup like some kind of Christopher Reeve, he happens to catch the attention of an employee who's already out on the floor. Now, what I would have done is to knock his chair out from under him and promptly dump the remainder of the cup on his head (mostly ice, because evidently he was 'a runnin dry!') But, she, not wanting to lose her job ostensibly, took it and refilled it.

While she was refilling it though, I think I heard her mumble, "old fagat" under her breath.