Here come douchebags, here come douchbags right down fucktard lane...

So if the sounds of Rosemary's baby evilly singing Christmas tunes isn't enough to turn customers to the dark side, the icy dandruff has started falling from the sky. Bah humbug to you too, snow! Now, I know there are those (who should be committed) who love the tiny ice demons that dance down from the sky, but I am still having 'Nam style flashbacks from the Snowpacolypse of last year. Apparently Pittsburgh drivers are also having these flashbacks... while driving. Just because it's snowing doesn't mean you should neglect to check the other lane before you merge. I miss the old days of snow when I sat in the passenger seat and during the night I could pretend like we were actually flying through space.

Anywho (don 't you hate people that say that?), I made it to work unscathed and even made it through the first 3 hours with one of my stricter managers. So, of course, after he left I slacked off in plain sight and stood at the register for much longer than was necessary. Good thing I did or else I would have missed the fucktards that decided to play with perfume and make up in Sephora... and these dumbasses were 40 year old men who didn't grow out of their frat boy phase. They're pretty much my favorite people to just sit back and watch. Seriously. I want a zoo of people and they would be the main exhibit. Then every Friday and Saturday night I would set up a bar where spectators could view a mating ritual between them and the overly tan bleach blonde women. God, I love stereotyping people. Anyway, the un-funny version of Old School decided that would be super awesome to throw a bottle of perfume to see what would happen. Guess, what. It was glass. It broke. Congratulations! You learned physics. Time to do a keg stand. Now, the dude claimed he dropped it or it "fell out of his hand." Well, I call bullshit. It was apparent from the perfume splatter pattern (that's right, I watch Dexter) that it was thrown. But, ok, if this was his story, fine, accidents happen so normal people would apologize. However,the Assholeius Douchebags decide to stand in the aisle and loudly argue about who actually broke the bottle and then loudly carry on about bullshitius maximus. I prayed that these men are not raising offspring... just still listening to Offspring. But, nope, there is a chance that one of these fine gents did or will procreate. One of them came back into the store and collected his woman who apparently was shopping in Sephora. And, yes, she was an overly tan blonde bimbo.... I hope their kid is a nerd.