Bloggy Blog Blog Blog

The guilt has become too much. It's not that I think anybody really misses the blog. It's not that I think anyone is really slavering for new disgruntled bookseller dribblings. It's the wasted clicks. You could be clicking on something much more productive rather than visiting this blog only to find that, yet again, I have not updated. So merely to allay that guilt, here are some meager scraps:

For those who were curious, Trailer Park Baby Daddy and the mother of his spawn were gone within two weeks of my post. It seems that Trailer Park Baby Daddy was less than discreet about his failure to control his manly urges both during his break time and while on the clock. It's bad enough when the customers do this. It's so much worse when a cow-worker does. How can I, in good conscience, make fun of customers who beat off in the store when my own cow-workers can't keep their hands off their junk? Here's the sad thing: Trailer Park Baby Daddy isn't the only cow-worker wanker. He's just the only one who's been caught, um, redhanded so to speak. I know. Ew.

****************************

The War on Christmas visited our store over the last month. One woman became positively apoplectic that we didn't have any "Christmas-themed" wrapping paper. Mind you, she wasn't complaining that we didn't carry Christmas themed (whatever that is) wrapping paper for sale, because we did. She was complaining that our selection of FREE wrapping paper, the paper we use for our FREE gift-wrapping service, was inadequate. Next year, I think we should oblige O'Reilly's minions with Christmas-centric paper. And I'm not talking any pussy-ass second-hand Christmas themes like Santa or Christmas trees here. I want something that really says JESUS CHRIST WAS BORN AND DIED FOR YOUR SINS, MOTHERFUCKER. Perhaps a crown of thorns motif on a gore-colored background.

*****************************

I apologize to my fellow cow-workers, especially the Holler, for being the disease vector for this year's epidemic of Spurns-Kerlock (sic) Syndrome. I think I obtained it from the font at Christmas Eve midnight mass. Holy water, my ass. Those things are Beelzebub's own bubbling cauldrons of seething viral life. If you're reading this Mom, I blame you for making me go.

*****************************

Finally, I would like to thank the Honorable Samuel Alito for taking the time to give me a shout out while he blogs live from his confirmation hearings. I can't say that I support your nomination, Sam, because you've obviously been a climber who'd say anything to advance his own career (and I find your views repugnant), but thanks for the mention. That skanky bitch Harriet wouldn't give me the time of day.