Eight Word Movie Reviews

HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES

I just wasted eighty-eight minutes of my life.

Currently listening to: Motorhead - Ace of Spades

The myth of blue-collar pride.

There is this idea that people who perform manual labor for a living take a certain pride in their jobs. Well, to some that may be true, but I can honestly say that for me and the majority of the people I know and work with this is not the case. Keep in mind that I'm only speaking for myself here and that these are my opinions. There may be plenty of people who love to slave away for shit pay and take it up the ass on a regular basis from bosses and wealthy, elitist assholes who want nothing more than to make money even if that means fucking over the people who work for them. I am not, however, one of these people.
I take no pride in cleaning up the shit that anyone leaves with a thought of, "Someone else will take care of this." I take no pride in doing the work that is "too low" for someone who was lucky enough to be able to afford to go to college. It just looks like pride because I try as hard as possible to distance myself from the people who look down on me for what I choose to do. They mistake my hatred of their actions and attitudes for enjoyment of my job. The last thing I want is to be like them, but, to be honest, even if I wanted to I couldn't afford to. So, I try and make the best of my day as I wade through the shit that they leave for me, forgetting that it's not the lawyers and architects that make the world turn, but rather the people who build the structures that they work in and take out the garbage that they leave for someone else.
I was planning on writing this a few days ago, but didn't have time. It's probably better that I'm doing it now because my boss came to us the other day and told us that hours were being cut by the owner and there was nothing he could do for us. In fact, his hours were cut more than ours. We are all left with a sense of betrayal. We have been busting or asses for a long time for this guy and now we are being repayed with this bullshit among other things (things that require too much explanation to go into right now...I'm working on emotion, not logic).
If it weren't for the fact that quitting would screw over my co-workers and my supervisor, I would have been out of there as soon as the information was given to us. But I feel a need to stick it out because of the patience and loyalty that my boss has shown to us. There isn't really any good way to end this, so...

Currently listening to: Tragedy - s/t

Attention!

If you are a rich college student I probably hate you...

I've been throwing out your unread copies of The Wall Street Journal for a while now because I figure that if you are reading that now while you are still in school, you are most likely a jerkoff. I'm actually doing the world a favor, see. By reading that publication you will only turn into a bigger jerkoff and since you are most likely pursuing a job where you will end up screwing people over who have less money than you, I think it's a good idea to trash your shit now before you trash my life later. Call this payback for sins yet to be committed.
Really, the only consolation I have when picking up your cigarette butts that you thoughtlessly toss on the ground even though there is a trash recepticle not five feet from you is knowing that due to the excessive amount of cancer sticks you smoke, you will be dead soon and that will be less mess for me or another unfortunate soul to clean up. Also, I hope you continue to drink shitloads of expensive beer and smash the bottles all over the ground. Maybe some day God will get off his lazy ass and cause you to slip and fall on the shards of glass, hopefully slicing open an artery. I wouldn't mind cleaning up your blood if I knew you weren't going to be around to fuck up my day anymore.
If you happen to see me cleaning your mess as you leave late in a rush for class (most likely because you were up late trying to figure out how to order GHB from the internet), don't give me that condescending look as if to say, "I'm so glad I'm going to school so I don't have to do what you're doing." I'm waiting for one of you to say something to me so that I have a justification for ramming a broom handle down your throat.
In closing, if you thought that throwing away your newspapers before you had a chance to read them was bad, wait until you see what I'm going to do in the coming weeks.

If you are a rich business owner, I probably hate you...

I haven't been re-supplying your restrooms with toilet paper for the past few days. I figure that it will run out at the end of the week. Also, I haven't been refilling your soap dispensers so that when you have to use your hand to wipe your ass, there will be no way for you to get it completely clean. I figure with all the shit you have been giving me, it's time you kept some of it for yourself.
Trash day is Wednesday. That doesn't mean if you put out your garbage on Thursday, the garbage truck will magically appear on the street and take the smelly shit that you decided to keep in your office for so long because you were too lazy to put it out on time. It only means that I have to pick it up from outside your office and store it for a week until I can put it on the curb.
If your hallway is dirty on Monday, don't complain. I have been doing all the vaccuuming on Tuesday for as long as you can remember. What makes you think I am going to suddenly switch up my schedule because some rich bitch decides that she doesn't like the little trail of dirt that she brought in because she refused to wipe her feet off on the mat provided just inside the door for such purpose?
In closing, quit pretending to care when you run into me while I'm perpetuating the class system by teaching you that there is always going to be someone to clean up whatever mess you make. You don't like me and I probably hate you.

Currently listening to: Tragedy - Vengeance

Houseguests...

I woke up this morning to find our friend Dave sleeping in our living room. He got up shortly after I did and the first thing he said to me was, "I hope I didn't throw up on your stuff." A few minutes later - after he and I checked the living room for vomit stains - he asked to use our phone. This is what I overheard as I was making my sandwich:

"Hey... Hungover... I've got some brown substance on my shirt and I can't walk straight."

There was a bottle of Jim Beam with what looked like one shot left in the bottom next to the couch he slept on. I talked to two of my roommates later and both told me that he was so drunk they thought he was going to die.

Currently listening to: Entombed - Morningstar

The Shitlist grows longer...

I open up the door to the stairwell that leads to a small hallway with two or three offices in it. A blast of hot garbage stench hits me in the face. I make my way up the stairs to find about 5 bags of garbage, shitloads of styrofoam and a huge cardboard refridgerator box next to the banister at the top. Apparently what happened was one of the offices got a new fridge and decided to clean out the old one. Well, they must have done it the night before and left all the cold garbage to slowly heat up in the small, confined area of the hallway; a place in which the heat is always turned up as high as it can go for some reason. Picture me carrying bag after bag of foul-smelling trash down the flight of stairs and into the garbage area with a scowl on my face and the thought in my head of, "There's a new entry on my shitlist."

I think I am going to stop filling the empty toilet paper dispensers in their bathroom and then stop refilling the soap for a week or two. That act of passive-aggressive revenge should be enough to satisfy me for a while.

One quick thing before I go. I had another really vulgar story to tell, but I think I'm going to hold off on it because I think that the one person who reads this doesn't appreciate that sort of thing.

Currently listening to: In Flames - Reroute to Remain

WARNING! I'M GOING TO SOUND REAL VULGAR HERE!

I don't mean for any of the following to sound derogatory. This is simply me being honest about my thoughts...

I ran into an ex-girlfriend last night who I haven't seen in about 5 months and the only thought in my head was, "This girl has had my dick in her mouth."

She acted like I wan't even in the room even though we have communicated several times through AIM since the break up and it has always been cordial. After a long period of her trying to avoid eye contact with me, I tried to initiate conversation with her but she looked at me, answered my question as if it put her out to even speak to me, and then walked away. I asked her friend why she was being such a dick and he said he had no clue.

Ex-girlfriend drama...

Currently listening to: Jerry Cantrell - Degradation Trip

Booty Call!

And I'm not talking about that shitty movie either...

My roommate knocks on my door at 10.30pm last night with phone in hand telling me, "She told me to wake you up, dude." I grab the phone wondering who would be calling and I hear the following: "Hey there! Wanna get laid tonight?"

I say, "Who is this?"

It turns out to be an ex-girlfriend that I dated a year ago but have remained friends with despite the awkward nature of our break-up (another story for another time). She kept trying to get me to come over, but I had to work at 4.30am the next day so I told her it wasn't happening. She got really disappointed and the conversation ended. Now, I have NEVER had a call like that before and was kind of put off, yet turned on at the same time! So my question to you is: If this happens again, what do I do? E-mail me your answers if you so wish.

Currently listening to: Cathedral - Supernatural Birth Machine