Other people win the Big Screen Tv's I get bags of Baked Lay's Potato chips

Somebody poisoned my hamburger from Carl's Jr. last night. I figure it was probably your boyfriend, the greasy mexican behind the counter. I know how he's pissed off at me because of our secret friendship. He gets jealous of the way you think about me when you play with yourself.

All I know is that I have exploding yellow diarrhea and I can thank you for that. Which is nice, because the liquidy yellow shit I get from you, is a way better prize than you get for not showing up to my store's Steak'n Potato party Saturday. 10 am is way too early for me to wake up, and I figured that the give-aways weren't going to be real, but they were. Somebody won a 32 inch flat screen tv, and one of the mentally retarded girls who works here won a bike. I wasn't even pissed when I heard that the little retard won the bike. I could just imagine her running around screaming after she won. Who could take away that kind of joy from a person?



Speaking of joy, all the winners from this morning, went around rubbing it in my face by forcing me to look at all the prizes I could have won like suns tickets or 50 dollar gift certificates to Red Lobster. Like me, my spirit wives did not show up, so they didn't get anything. We just sat around feeling sorry for ourselves, and I became the prize patrol for night crew by giving away 10 dollars in cash to some of my spirit wives, because they all earn minimum wage and don't have enough money left over to buy lunch. I am not good looking, so I have to give away money if I want to keep getting hugs from my underaged baggers. That's ok, it's way cheaper to give teen girls lunch money for hugs and fake emotional connection than to give professional strippers money to rub on you.

After my shift ended I discovered that the company put all the left over steaks and baked potatoes in the manager's office. If I 'd been smart, I would have found the stash earlier, and treated my wives to a fine sit down fancy meal. Because I found the left overs at closing all that was left where bags of Baked Lay's Potato chips in the single serving size. I grabbed 4 of them along with 2 big cookies, so take that Corporate America.

My little victory over Corporate America is short lived because they slash our store's collective hours from 600 to 400. They are slashing hours not because our store fails to meet sales goals, we break them, but because the district is not making sales goals. What recession?