Archive for Business

Packed To The Rafters With Gormlessness!

Posted in Shit That Sucks & Blows with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 10, 2010 by Buck Frain

A top psychologist has come out to warn fucking idiots obsessed with a piece-of-shit TV show that the death of a fictional character may cause them to feel an emotion. A major news outlet scrambled to alert an apathetic and increasingly gorm-deficient populace to this inconsequential drivel in the hope they could avoid having to report any of the significant events or issues that might warrant genuine social consideration.

If people start feeling emotions about things that aren’t real, they reasoned, it’s a real possibility that they may one day experience an emotion about something that is real. If this happened, then it’s down the slippery slope to people forming considered opinions about the world they live in and even taking actions towards making it a better place. This sort of thing could seriously threaten big business.

Fuck you, Australia, for taking it! Fuck you, Channel 7, for producing the flyblown arse that is Packed to the Rafters! Fuck you again for trying to disguise blatant plugs for your own TV show as legitimate news! – Yes, they seriously tried to pass plot plugs for the show as genuine news that implied that an actor had died! – And fuck you to the psychologist, Dr. Jan Hall, who thinks that experiencing emotions is something that the public need to be warned about! Are you fucking serious? I mean, are we as a society so alienated from our emotions that we need a public warning about the catastrophic grief we may experience at the loss of a fictional character on a TV show? Get fucked!

“Tell yourself it’s only a TV show, exercise to release the ‘happy drugs’ in your body, or watch a soppy DVD that makes you have a good cry,” she said.

Fuck the fucking fuck right off! Seriously, Dr Hall, do you actually think that people have forgotten the purposes and possible effects of drama? People empathising with fictional characters and experiencing emotions as a result of fictional events? What the cunting shit do you think has been going on for the last 2000 years? Theatre and catharsis – ring any bells? You fucking stupid cunt! JUST FUCKING DIE!!!

A massive FUCK YOU has to go out to The Herald Sun for giving any of this even the slightest consideration. YOUR ORGANISATION SHOULD BE OBLITERATED FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE NATIONAL INTELLECT!!!

By the way, the two million people who watch that excremental suburban banality should be set on fire for their lack of imagination or taste. Gormless fucks! I’m serious, I fucking hate you all!

Australia Post – Dirty Pirate Bastards.

Posted in Shit That Sucks & Blows with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 4, 2010 by Buck Frain

So Australia Post are a bunch of cunts! This may not be news to some people but it twatted me squarely between the eyes today.  I wish there was something other than whinging I could do about it but there isn’t so I’m just going to sit here being as fucked-off as hell…again. What’s new? 

I went into the post office to get a document certified as a “true copy” today. There are an arseload of locations I could quite easily have chosen to get this done but, as I would have to post the document after, I felt it would be quicker to get it all done in the one place. What I found out when I got there was that on 15th February this year Australia Post had started charging $3.95 per page for this service. A service which had been free until then and continues to be free everywhere else it is provided. 

I asked why the fee had been introduced and was met with an insipid smile and a vaguely uncomfortable I don’t know

I left the post office muttering to myself and walked down the street to the chemist where they happily certified my document without charge. In gratitude I put a couple of coins in the Salvation Army tin on the counter. I like them at the chemist. I wish I could have posted my letters there. 

I marched back into the post office and glared at the postal worker in the hope that my glaring alone would either penetrate his soul causing him to take up arms against the management of Australia Post and start a postal-worker revolution OR maybe just cause him to drop dead from a deeply-felt social remorse. My glaring powers seem to be in need of a bit of work. I paid the postage on my letter and walked outside to post it and swear to myself some more.

WHAT THE FUCK??? It used to be that the post office was there to serve the public. To provide valuable services. To help. I have no issue with anyone making a living but let’s be quite fucking honest. THIS IS SHIT!!! Australia Post is a self-funded, Government-owned organisation. They hold a monopoly over the postal service in Australia and have for the last few years been posting record profits. Furthermore, they have approval from the ACCC to put up the price of stamps to 60 cents later this year. WHAT THE FUCK DO THEY NEED MORE MONEY FOR??? The certification of documents is an important service. Is this fee a bid to simply not provide this courtesy to the community anymore by encouraging people to go somewhere they can get it for free, or is it a cynical plan to exploit even more money out of a captive market seeing as everyone has to go there eventually if they want to post their stuff? Either way it is a thoroughly reprehensible piece of corporate malignancy. 

FUCK YOU, AUSTRALIA POST!!! This decision is mean-spirited, exploitative and downright cunting well fucked! $3.95 PER CUNTING PAGE!!! IT’S DAYLIGHT FUCKING ROBBERY!!! Whoever came up with this idea is an evil shit-licker and my dearest wish is that they should die bleeding out of their arse in a tank full of hungry sharks. Tomorrow. On TV. CUNTS!!! ARSE!!! FUCK!!!

Gary Morgan Eats Shit!

Posted in Specials with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 24, 2009 by Buck Frain


I don’t normally do requests but very occasionally someone sends me something that I feel I need to share. This is one of those cases. This really made me laugh – the dodgy mouth movements, the path of the turd and…is that arse hairy? Whether it’s the work of an idiot or a genius I don’t know but whoever they are they’re obviously someone who hates their boss just as I myself despise the…hmm…remarkably similar proprietor of my own workplace. Someone identifying him/herself only as fisto401 sent me the piece of artwork above in an apparent effort:

…to show the world how much of a shit-eating bastard my miserable cunt of a boss is.

In fisto401’s email to me he/she engaged in a blistering attack on his/her employer, a Mr. Gary Morgan,  describing said Gazza as

…the ultimate fucking seagull manager.

Fisto then goes on to say:

Everyone hates his guts. He’s a miserable tight-arse bastard and he can’t even throw a decent Christmas party. The old cunt’s worth millions and all he can do is lay on two hours worth of VB and some fucked old party pies. He’s such a cunt I just wish I could quit working at the Morgue and drop a shit right on his desk.

From what I can understand the business in question is a research company not a morgue. I would have to say that if your company is known by employees as The Morgue and it’s not one, you’re probably doing something wrong.  I can’t tell you whether Gary Morgan really is a shit-eating freak but I suspect he probably is. There are malcontents in any workplace but to inspire the profound loathing that damands the creation of works of angry computer art that get sent to third parties to ensure it doesn’t remain nothing more than an in joke, you really must be a serious arsehole. So, I’ll trust fisto401’s judgement and salute their unsophisticated but hilarious depiction of Gary Morgan eating shit like the shit-eating freak he almost certainly is. Ha ha ha! Fuck you, Gary Morgan, you filthy shit-eating bastard!!!

 

 

If you hate your boss and have created something funny to publicly have a go at them, please send it to buck.frain@gmail.com and if I think it’s entertaining, justified or both I might post it here. Why? Because I’m lazy and have no scruples, that’s why!

It’s The McNews, McBitches!!!

Posted in Rage Against The Machine with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 28, 2008 by Buck Frain

Back when I started publishing my rage I did a post on McDonald’s and how fuckin’ furious they make me. Some people got it and naturally I also got a bunch of comments from gormless fuck-stains in denial about the corporate evil being perpetrated by corporations like McDonald’s. To all those fuck-stains: eat my shit, you suck!!!

Now I find this story saying McDonald’s have begun paying to have their product placed in news programs. ON THE FUCKING NEWS!!! The traditional territory of at least some illusion of impartiality has become an open field for corporate spruiking through product placement. Objectivity? Eat my arse! Naturally, the dirty, whoring, sycophant executives accepting this filthy lucre have been keen to state that maccas won’t be influencing news content at all. But how can we believe them? Do we realistically believe they would ever dare bite that big, fat, clown-hand now feeding them.

Recent statistics reveal obesity as the fastest growing cause of death in our country [sips from McDonald’s cup, winks at camera] but this tastes great and there are healthy options now too, so keep eating the grease, kids, and just get your doorways widened!

This marks a new low in media whorishness. Why even call it news anymore? How can we even tell when the commercials are over? This really shits my bed – any news program that accepts sponsorship in this way should be fire-bombed on principle. The only reasonable answer to this level of desperate, money-grubbing emptiness is with uncensored, mindless violence. Oh, yeah, anger management, incarceration – yeah, I’m the crazy person, I mean we live in a world where nothing exists that cannot be bought, but I’m the terrorist! I implore the benevolent scientists out there working on The Stupid Bomb to redouble their efforts. Bring on the fuckhead apocalypse! Fuckin’ stupid humans!

 

So it’s not funny – fuck you, I never said it was. You want funny, go here.

Petrol Price Rise Rage Reality.

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 24, 2008 by Buck Frain

Petrol prices are going up. It’s not fuckin’ news. It’s been in the news constantly for the last fuck-knows-how-many years but recently it’s started to really fuck me off. People are up in arms over he rising fuel prices and I understand, I even empathise with them to a point. Certainly, rural Australians and people reliant on petrol for their occupations are really under pressure and the harsh truth is it is not going to get any better. I feel for these people but it is reality. 

The people I don’t feel sorry for are the fucking idiots blaming the government for rising prices. What the nail-gunned ballbags are they thinking? Yes, the government are greedy cunts, they control the various taxes they charge on fuel, but beyond that they have nothing to do with it.

 

I found this little gem today from the UK and was relieved to find that they’re even more stupid than us: 

Two-thirds of motorists said they would vote for a different government if fuel rose to between £1.25 and £1.49 per litre and 63% said they would be willing to protest if the price of petrol and diesel rose to levels they considered unacceptable. 

 

What the grated dick are you fuckheads thinking? It’s supply and demand, the demand’s up and the supply is rapidly going down forever. Protest all the fuck you want, vote for a fucking hedgehog, it’s not going to make more dead dinosaurs! The fact is we’ve nearly burnt them all, we’ve burnt up the dead dinosaurs and the few drips that are left are going to continue to get more and more expensive until some massively rich CUNT goes for the world’s last petrol drag and that will be the end of it, which of course it won’t be because sooner or later, if the polluted environment or global war doesn’t kill us first, we’ll develop sustainable, renewable energy sources and means of transport that run on them.

 

The world is changing, we’re running out of oil, all of us in every single country on the planet, now SHUT THE FUCK UP AND FUCKIN’ WELL DEAL WITH IT!!! The fucking childish mentality of consumers makes me so fucking angry, what the fuck did you think was going to happen you mindless fucksticks? DEAL WITH IT! Especially if you live in the UK – no reasonable person would choose to live in a place with such abominable weather and the miserable island’s small enough you can get your pasty arse on a pushbike and peddle to fucking work!  

 

 

http://humor-blogs.com/

 

Afterthought: The CEO of Caltex came out and said people should use less fuel. Doesn’t that indicate something? I mean, what sort of CEO asks you to buy less of his product? People, fuckin’ stupid people, bah!

Door-to-door Euthanasia – The Business Of The Future!

Posted in Crap Jobs with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 15, 2008 by Buck Frain

I had a great idea for a direct marketing business today. It just came to me. Door-to-door Euthanasia. Genius! Think about it:- The planet’s chronically overpopulated, we’re consuming natural resources at a thoroughly unsustainable rate and we’re polluting our environment to an extent that the planet will be uninhabitable by humans within 100 years. The human race is done. Most people are already killing themselves, in a slow, cowardly consumerist way at least: cigarettes, alcohol, junk food, drugs, mobile phones, driving whilst doing any or all of the former. Most of these people recognise the subtly suicidal undertones to these behaviours. Most of these people also wouldn’t be able to give you any decent justification for their continuing existence on the planet. It’s a pretty easy sell.

Huddled into their dingy homes crammed with unused exercise machines and sporting memorabilia, glued to commercial TV banality, stuffing their obese bodies with fatty home delivered death, all the while decaying intellectually and spiritually, and refusing to participate in the affluent democracy that spawned them. All they want is someone to show them a product they can buy, that doesn’t require any effort on their part other than an outlay of cash, and that will solve all their problems – forever.

It’s just an idea at this stage and I realise I’d have to dress it up with some quasi-spiritual promise of wealth, stardom and beauty in some sort of afterlife. Not to mention a serious money-back guarantee, but I’m on to something, that’s for sure.

Oh fuck, I’ve turned into Satan! I gotta start looking for another line of work, I don’t think I’m very well.

The Dehumanising Onset Of Sickness.

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 14, 2008 by Buck Frain

Ah, I’m getting sick. It’s absolutely fucked. I could feel the lump starting at the back of my throat and putting just the slightest pressure on my right ear-drum this morning. There was just a hint of a sniffle and I just knew that tomorrow I’ll wake up as sick as a bitch, sore throat, snot factory, hot dry eyes and in a cunt of a mood!

 

I don’t suppose I should be surprised, call centres are breeding grounds for disease. The whole place is a fucking bio-hazard and should be bombed to shit. Sniffling, sneezing, coughing mouth-breathers everywhere. Fuck! I’m an obsessive fucking cleanliness freak at work. We have these alcohol wipes for the headsets, I use about five or six at the beginning of every shift. I sterilize the headset, keyboard, mouse, monitor, desk, everything. Who the fuck knows who was here last? And, fuck, let me tell you there are people who work here who you don’t want to share anything with. I don’t even trust the cups in the kitchen at work. Even if they look clean I hold them under the boiling water tap before using them.

 

But despite my best efforts, flu shots included, I’ve caught something. I fucking felt it all day, it’s like a cloud of retardedness has descended on me. Everything is just a little out of phase, I’m just half a step off normal. I rammed my shin into the corner of the bed while I was getting ready for work this morning. I swore like a bastard. Fuck, it hurt. I poured boiling water on my hand at work while sterilising my cup. It fucking hurt too but wasn’t bad, I put it straight under cold water, it probably won’t even blister. Still, I felt like a tool and it was another sign that something was wrong.

 

I finally decided to go home after I sneezed and everything turned green. Not only did I nearly deafen the guy I was on the phone to, I had viscous green mucous all down my face and in my hand. It was fucking revolting. I excused myself from the call and reached my free hand into a pocket searching for tissue…to no avail, there were none to be found. I started to get up and realised that my headset mic was entirely hidden within an enormous gob of phlegm connected by a green umbilicus to my top lip. The nice goth girl sitting next to me actually dry retched.  I am hideous. I went to the loo, with my headset, cleaned up and left for the day. Ah, kill me!

How To Get 1 Million Hits On Your Blog!

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 28, 2008 by Buck Frain

The World Is Yours.

Getting one million hits on anything on the internet is fucking easy and if you can’t do it you’re fucking idiot and you should consider having yourself euthanased. Just ask me, I’ve never done it! On the upside I’m not asking you for any money and you’re already here so you might as well hear me out. 

The internet, just like the real world, is full mostly of complete cretins. Brainless fucksticks with about as much imagination as your average carrot. It’s at this point, I’d usually cut sick at the stupidity of humankind for another paragraph or so, but for what we’re doing today human stupidity is a good thing, and you want your million hits so I’ll try to stay on track. 

The way to get hits is to have text in your site that people search for using search engines. The more people search for specific phrases that appear in your site, the more hits you get. Now, you could subscribe to numerous sites or download all sorts of fancy applications that measure search engine traffic in order to find what’s hot right now and help you choose a niche that you can exploit for whatever it is that rubs your rhubarb. Rather than list any of those applications here, I’ll just say: Don’t fuckin’ waste your money! The internet is simple and people are shit. People are online for three main reasons and these never change:

  • Porn
  • Cash
  • Salvation

Dating is also pretty big, but pointless for us, and then way down the list there’s also people doing genuine research or looking for actual information. These people are pretty useless for our purposes because they’re smart and interested in too wide a variety of subject matters, also, we’re really here to get hits, yeah? Fuckin’ yeah! So let’s stick with the three. 

For porn sites you need text like: 

Free XXX, big tits, hardcore fucking, free teen cum sluts, amateur porn pics, lesbian college party, fat hairy bitches, massive cock gallery, tit-fuck, donkey-punch creampie, dirty rim-job, fisting the dentist, gobbing the teacher, anal probe alien, fuck-monkey latinas, asian ping pong pussy, pissing on cops.

Of course if you ad some pictures or videos, some people might come back especially if they’re porn pictures and videos. 

For Cash sites you need text like: 

Free home business, make cash from home, free start-up, make a fortune online, $100,000 per month guaranteed, best online business, retire in one year, lucrative investment opportunity, be your own boss, be a millionaire, earn millions, chance of a lifetime, fully-automated business, no work – huge rewards, have a shit on your boss.

Again the text is all you really need to get the hits but if you want to branch out into actually turning those hits into money, you’ll need to offer some sort of publication and charge for it. The idea isn’t to provide anyone with anything that earns them money, it’s about stringing them along with a sniff of earning potential, getting them to sign up for a zine that has all the answers for a nominal fee like $50 that you’ll refund if it doesn’t work in three months. The zine has to offer vague hints, links and pointers to things they have to buy and lots of encouragement because people who go for this shit are desperate and fragile and need lots of reassurance. This also stops them from giving up and asking for a refund for the first 3 months. You can send them emails containing new links to bullshit products every few days to keep tham thinking they’re getting business coaching. You don’t have to worry about whether it works or not, most people will realise they can’t be bothered trying your ideas so they’ll give up. Yay, free cash for you! Those who do try it may have some degree success which means you win again, and those who try it, fuck it up and want refunds – well, fuck them! 

The salvation sites need text like: 

Fuck this shit, who can be bothered? I mean, you get the idea, don’t you? Blah blah blah. Really, why even bother with the salvation sites, porn and cash are what most people want so stick to that. I just put salvation in because three options look better than two, so find your own fuckin’ words, you lazy cunt! I mean, maybe I’d give you salvation if I was getting something out of it but I’m not and I’m in a pretty bad mood anyway so you should just be happy I’ve been as generous as I have. 

So that’s it! That’s your lesson on how to get 1 million hits on your blog or whatever the fuck else you feel like putting up on the internet. Getting hits is all about bullshit, cheap tricks and usually involves annoying the piss out of everyone you know until they hate you. So in that spirit I’ll ask a favour. No, there’s no such thing as a free lunch, are you really that naïve? I’ll ask that you copy the address of this page and send it in an email to everyone you know, paste a link to it into your Facebook, Myspace or any other webpage you have access to, and tell them all this is the most important thing they’ll read this year and even though you don’t normally pass these sorts of things on, you felt compelled to share this gem with them. Why? Because I want a million hits too, I too am a big sold-out bitch who yearns for the adulation of complete strangers, so do the right thing and don’t let the Buck stop here, pass it on! 

Thanks!

 

Damn! You fuckers will read anything!

 

The Wobblers – A Tale Of Two Bosses.

Posted in Tales From Hell with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 21, 2008 by Buck Frain

It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times.

The Wobblers have been at me today. Ah, it makes me want to throw up. Revolting, obese, mouth-breathing bitches breaking my balls for no other reason than the fear that I might one day show them up for their ineptitude. As if I give a shit. 

The Wobblers is the collective term I apply to my two bosses. Fuck, one would be bad enough but I have two of the rotten things. I call them The Wobblers because that’s what they do best – wobble. If you tried to make people out of blancmange and hate you’d make my bosses. You’d also be a complete arsehole and I’d fuckin’ hunt you down and kill you. 

My immediate boss, L.F. Ant, is a morbidly obese balding woman in her early 30’s with Bell’s Palsy so her face looks like half of it has gone on strike and is trying to run away. Who the fuck would blame it? As a result she can’t talk properly so I’ve put up a $50 bounty to anyone who can get her to say I was born on a pirate ship in public – no-one’s attempted it yet. I’m not a superficial human being and I don’t ordinarily judge people for their looks but unfortunately L.F.’s personality is even more unpleasant than her grotesque appearance so I feel justified in vilifying her vile exterior. She is very stupid, almost illiterate, completely incompetent and a mean, angry bitch. She’s got these fuckin’…I don’t know, they’re like bed sores, on her elbows… from holding her enormous bulk off the desk. It’s fucking horrible. She sits in her office munching Cheese & Bacon Shapes, Rasberry Bullets and anything else that comes within arm’s reach of her. Fuck I wish she would just choke to death.

Unfortunately, today was not the day. Instead of choking to death quietly in her office, she decided to give me my first bollocking for the week. I suppose I should be thankful I missed it yesterday. I usually get bollocked for something on Monday, when this first started happening I actually thought I was doing something wrong but now I know it’s just that two days of not bollocking anyone and the disappointment of yet another sexless weekend of binge eating and self-hate needs an outlet. It would seem that kicking piss out of your employees alleviates the pain of an empty existence.

Today’s bollocking began as a passive-aggressive rebuke over what she felt was an inappropriate comment – I acknowledged to a respondent that a question was poorly written. I’ve learnt it’s better to nod and smile rather than engage in any debate with L.F., she doesn’t have the academic skills to hold a cogent argument so you just get in worse trouble disagreeing with her. So I agreed I should have been more professional – if it happened again I’d do exactly the same thing, of course. Unfortunately, it didn’t wash. She really wanted to have a go at someone, and even worse, I suspected she wanted me to put up some resistance. This was very dangerous – you know that Hippapotamus kill more people than lions? It all came out, a back-catalogue of all my transgressions over the past twelve months. You were late on thith day…Tho-and-tho had to thpeak with you on thith day…I ekthpect a lot more from you…you’re ekthperienthed enough to know better… I could fuckin’ see her glancing over to the spreadsheet of misdeeds she obviously had open on her computer. I stuck to my plan – nod and smile, agree and apologise. Don’t run, she’ll chase and kill you. In the end she could see she wasn’t getting anywhere, she started to tire, she was about to let me go when her boss walked in. 

Her boss, my second, is Pat Schwerk, a not-quite-so obese South African woman in her 60’s. Not as stupid as L.F., she is bureacratic and thoroughly misanthropic. If she was green and wrote poetry, she’d be one of Douglas Adams’ Vogons. She’s got a squint so one eye looks through you and the other skews off into another dimension where I suspect she receives her orders straight from a source of immense evil.

What’s going on here? Brilliant! The whole story comes out again and all the patient back-peddling was for nothing. Two bosses for the price of one. Tag-teamed by fatties – I’ve been Wobbled! Fuck it! What am I eight years old in the head master’s office? This drives me mental. I want to scream into their faces THE QUESTION IS BADLY WRITTEN, YOU ROTTEN FUCKING BANSHEES! IT’S ABOMINABLY WRITTEN BECAUSE THE SPEC WRITER IS A MORBIDLY OBESE FUCKTARD JUST LIKE YOU TWO LOUSY SHIT-SUCKING SLUTHEADS!!! WHY DON’T YOU JUST KILL YOURSELVES? WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO LIVE FOR, YOU EVIL CUNTS??? FUCKING DIE!!!

But I need my job, thus conscience does make cowards of us all, or I’m scared to be without it. I continue to apologise and placate and the situation gradually subsides. After a time I can back away slowly and return to work.

Back at my booth, after a three seconds of being thankful I got out alive, reality descends on me like a brown cloud – they’ve won, they might as well have my balls one each in jars on their desks. I’m back out at work minus some spirit, without my balls, having taken shit from hideous beasts and I’ve come away with a bunch of their self-loathing. It’s not mine, I don’t hate myself normally. They’ve achieved something incredible. Evil, but completely incredible – they’ve transferred some of their self-hate to me. This is intolerable, it’s really fuckin’ sick, they are using management as their therapy. They must be stopped. DEATH TO THE WOBBLERS!!!

Inconvenience Stores, EFTPOS & The Death Of Community

Posted in Random Shit That Gives Me The Cunt with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 20, 2008 by Buck Frain

I’ve told you about my morning ritual before. All I want in the morning is my coffee. This morning I had no milk. Fuck. I know it’s never gonna be a good day when I have to put pants on before I’ve had coffee but I know they won’t serve me at the shop if I’m not wearing pants. 

So pants, shoes, shirt, just like a normal person, eyes still crusted over with sleep I head off to the corner shop. 

My corner store is not a franchise, it’s a traditional mum & dad business run by an ancient Indian couple. They barely speak and they move with a Thorazine slowness that is infuriating when all you want is a metcard before you miss your train. Luckily, I have time this morning. I place the milk on the counter. The wizened old crone shuffles to the counter, looks the milk over, looks at me, peruses the chart next to the cash register. Four dollars. she mumbles through her three remaining teeth. You think I’m being unkind but it’s the truth. I realise that I only have 95 cents and a sweaty piece of chewing gum in my pocket. I shove it back in and pull out my wallet. Empty. I hand her my card. Minimum $10 EFTPOS she recites blankly. 

I know I have less than $10 in my account. I drank tequila last night with mates and I know there is no $10. I don’t have $10 in the account. I’ve got about 8 bucks ’til Wednesday. She is unmoved. $10 minimum purchase. I’m not impressed. I just need some milk so I can have coffee. Why? I ask. She doesn’t understand. Why $10? She looks at me like I’m a trouble maker, someone definitely not to be trusted. It’s the rule. $10. Like that explains anything. FUCK! I fuckin’ hate this shit. 

I’ve heard the various justifications and they all sound like complete bullshit. The banks charge us money on small purchases. I’d believe it, the banks are all cunts – that doesn’t justify it, though. Do you know how much these machines cost per month? Obviously not too much or you wouldn’t have one, you fuckin’ tight-arse! Blah blah blah. It’s fucked. I have money. I want to hand it over in exchange for goods. This is the way it works, isn’t it? The cunting banks just fuck everything, how many times can they charge fees for the same transaction? Aren’t they supposed to provide a service or put something back into the community? CUNTS!!! IOf course, it could just be a cheap upsell technique used by drowning businesses to coerce a few extra dollars from a desperate consumer, and I confess in the past I have bought shit I didn’t even want just to get the shit I needed. I’d probably do it today if only I ACTUALLY HAD TEN DOLLARS WHICH I FUCKING WELL DON’T!!!

So I stare at the old woman across the counter. I change tack. Could you just put it through? How about you charge me $8 for the milk. You double your money, I get milk, that has to cover your costs, yeah? She shakes her head and waves an index finger at me like a naughty child. No no no. $10 minimum. OK. That failed. In a last ditch effort: OK, can I just take the milk? I’ll pay you on Wednesday, I promise. Her eyes widen like she’s never heard anything so preposterous in her life – which is a long fucking time to not hear anything like this. No! She’s shouting at me Put it back if you don’t have money. You come back on Wednesday with money I sell you whatever you like. Go on! Get out! Get out of here!

She reached for a broom and was going to sweep me out of the fucking shop, for real. She grabbed it, raised the bristles at me and began to walk around the counter – I just left. You win, lady. FUCK!!! I’ve been going to her fucking dank, cockroach-infested shithole every couple of days for two years. Two fucking years and this is what I get for customer loyalty. I get swept away like garbage because I wasn’t spending ten lousy bucks. I can’t seriously go back there now. Not ever. I’m a fuckin’ person. I bought their overpriced shit because of convenience. FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING OLD BITCH!!! Where is compassion? Where is community? Where is the next nearest fucking shop to my house? FUCK! How fucking depressing. Black coffee, a big dose of humiliation and the loss of my corner store forever.