Tag: spiteful behavior

The Back In The Day Battle That Got Me Banned From Blockbuster

Back a Billion years ago when no one gave two shits about a burgeoning little company known as Netflix and before technology brought us the ability to stream Blockbuster ruled the world. I admit whole heartedly I’m a movie addict (a film junkie strung out on celluloid ) so I had no real alternative to Blockbuster if I wished to rent a movie I was forced to deal with them.

One day I along with a few friends went to the local Blockbuster. Its important to note at this time Debit Cards where still the new big thing in banking, and I myself had recently received my first debit card mere months ago. We walked in and I proceeded to stroll over to the check out counter and asked the man standing there how would I go about acquiring a Blockbuster Membership Card (which without you couldn’t rent shit obviously) The man told me right off the bat that I would need a credit card I have still to this day NEVER owned nor EVER will own a credit card, (but thats another story all together) ,and because as I mentioned before Debit Cards had just become a big deal because they had duel purposes. One of the cool new options Debit Cards offered was the ability to select credit as a payment option upon check out so I pulled out my Debit Card and handed to him. The employee barely looked at it before handing directly back to me saying that Debit Cards didn’t count as credit cards. He then went on to say  I’d have to have a American Express or some bullshit if I wanted a Membership.

Now to say that back in those cryptic times I had a short fuse would imply there was a fuse to begin with. Now in spite of this kick ass cool new Debit Card this Movie Moron was telling me that Blockbuster, when all other businesses were wildly embracing new banking technology, was going to refuse me over an antiquated system. I decided to turn a bad situation to a worse one because the Film Freak behind the counter was being utterly irrational so I was going to fuck up his day for being such an unarguable ASSHOLE. I aggressively asked the Blockbuster Bitch why the Hell Blockbuster wouldn’t allow the use of Debit Cards considering their backed by Credit Card Companies hence the Visa or MasterCard Logo on it. The Idiot Employee stated condescendingly that Blockbuster does not acknowledge Debit Cards as a valid form of payment as it were and if I couldn’t get a credit card (implying that I was a young punk kid who would be denied by any and all Credit Card Companies) then it wasn’t his or Blockbuster’s concern, and thats when all Hell started to break loose. I was glaring at the employee in undeniable hate while he stared at me with his best “Fuck You Face” as the volume of our disagreement was beginning to escalate. At this point it was no longer about a minor movie membership but a total battle of wills, this shit had become personal.

I launched into a full blown, brutal, profanity laced, obscene diatribe damn near screaming about how the fuck Blockbuster could be so motherfucking egotistical and blatantly deny memberships over trivial bullshit. I mean I wasn’t trying to buy a goddamn gun I just wanted to rent a motherfucking movie for fuck’s sake. I went on that I was the prime demographic that caused Blockbuster’s rise to rule ,but not only that the demographic that comprised the body ,and provided the blood able to sustain such a massive national company. I said that from now on fuck Blockbuster I was going to now refer to them as Cockbuster because thats exactly what the fuck they are. The verbal assault switched gears from Cockbuster the Crap filled Corporation comprised of Shit Sucking Soulless Sons of Bitchs to the conduct of their (specifically the guy I was/had been dealing with) employees and their eat shit attitude. It was the usual cliche shit, who did he think he was, what made him so fucking superior when in reality he rented fucking movies not like its fucking open heart surgery.

My buddies at this point knew things were way too far out of control and realized they only solution was to physically remove me from the store. The 3 of them formed a triangle around me as my buddy at the front tried to calm me down (or at least get me to shut the Hell up) and at the same time trying to placate the situation by talking over me as well as the employee to drown out the arguing. I then became aware I was boxed in by my buddies and that they were attempting to escort me off the premises before inevitably the Crooked Cops were called in. So under duress I was shuffled out all the while still continuing my venomous venting all the way out the door, and through the parking lot to our car.

After Thoughts and Facts:

  1. Cockbuster slowly died and rotted away as Netflix and Streaming became the new and far better alternatives to putting up with Rental Rejects.
  2. Cockbuster in the end before their crippling corporate demise gave me a membership with me using my finally accepted new way of the world Debit Card.
  3. I NEVER USED THE MEMBERSHIP, I got it to PROVE I could in fact get a Membership and Cockbuster could subsequently Piss Off into Bankruptcy.
  4. About a month or so after my run in with Cockbuster an article was published (and insanely popular with the general American public) about how Cockbuster DENIED TOM FUCKING CRUISE a Membership.
  5. The Cockbuster that I had my run in with closed and was bulldozed to make room for extra shopping center parking because no one else want to lease the building.
  6. I had an opportunity to return to where my Cockbuster incident occurred during a business trip and once I stood where the Cockbuster had been I proceeded to piss on it like the commercial grade grave it is.

The Bastard Brothers of BarFly

Back in the day when I was a real son-of-a-bitch I had the great displeasure of knowing The Bastard Brothers of Barfly for a few miserable months. First off BarFly barely constitutes a town out in “the boonies” of TCM. BarFly is such a tiny,tiny bankrupt micro town its not even a small dot on the map, and  the people’s  families/friends of BarFly residents received enthusiastic emails when the town got a 2nd traffic light for Christ’s sake. As you can imagine there isn’t diddly shit for the youth of BarFly to do but drink, fuck, vandalize, smoke weed, loiter and drive around the rural landscape of nothingness that is BarFly.

The Bastard Brothers are a classic example of the youth of BarFly, but I’m sure by now BarFly has developed or died providing a much more active environment. The older brother was named Bell-End who was the most transparently fake as fuck person I have ever run across in my chaotic travels.

This story unfolds in a time before smart phones and social media when Headbangers still existed in diminishing tribes but where a dying breed since Seattle ejaculated Grunge music and flannel in the face of America. Now Bell-End was a wannabe metalhead he had the long hair, played guitar, smoke’n drank, wore jeans with torn knees, and a lame denim vest (a jacket he had cut the sleeves off of, he missed the memo stating sleeve removing is for t-shirts not jackets the moron) covered with band patches (such as Metallica, Motorhead, Anthrax etc.) ultimately he was a shitty sheep in metal clothing. Not only that but he has a condescending, egotistical, snide “I’m gods gift to the fucking world” smarter than all attitude ,but in reality he was just a lame legend in his own minuscule mind.

His younger brother Dingus was not any better then his big brother accept he was a scumbag of a different shitty color. Dingus has short man’s insecurities all Napoleon complex and shit because the guy is 5 foot nothing. Dingus dropped out of high school in the 10th grade to hangout 24/7 attached at the hip with a scummy emo goth chick named Slutica When I say attached at the hip I mean it in the most extreme stereotypical manner, you NEVER saw one without the other being no more than 3 feet away like the pair of codependent cocksuckers they still are.

This particular cool fall evening I was loitering my balls off outside the one and only connivence store/ gas station in BarFly called the Bub’s Gas’n Grub in the entirely vacant lot somewhere around 8 pm or so. My buddy Slaytanic who had be relentlessly hounding the pay phone (yes they too still existed in limited numbers as cell phones evolved society) trying to find something, anything to do other than what we were currently up to. Slaytanic finally reached The Bastard Brothers on his mental rolodex and found out the two douche bags had a party ball of Schidt. The Brothers also claimed to have in their possession a bag of Northern Lights so if we needed something to do Slaytanic and I could stop by The Brother’s house since their parents were off visiting relatives. After a brief no brainer consultation Slaytanic and I were walking our way over to The Bastard Brother’s parents place.

Once Slaytanic and I arrived Bell-End announces that the two twats had decided to charge everyone $20 to party. This was beyond stupid as fuck for two key principals 1 being imposing a last minute party tax is like a bullshit cover charge, and we’re in BarFly not NYC. The 2nd principal being the Brother’s claim to marijuana fame (Yes again there wasn’t ANY legal weed medical or otherwise.) which was blatant bullshit. There was not a chance in all the religious hells the 2 twits could have gotten their grubby hands on Alaskan high grade shit. What The Brother’s had was what everybody had Mexican brick weed which is very low quality shit (especially by todays standards), and were simply lying to try to warrant their $20 turd tax. Not to mention this was the farthest thing from a party as it was the 2 Bastard Brothers, Slaytanic, myself and one other person who also was a good friend of mine named Space Dog.

It was not just the fact I was hanging at the home of 2 colossal cockbangers but it was the surprise last second tax that just royally chapped my ass, and thus kicked off my rampage of drunken revenge. I had had enough at this point of the to Bastard Brothers with their endless torrent of complete horse shit and even shittier personalities. To get the ball rolling I decided to pound beers like an alcoholic yeti until they went down like water. The entire group adjourned to the backyard at one point to smoke the alleged (and yet totally fake ass) Northern Lights aka dirty ditch weed. After smoking it was back to slamming beers like I was trying to keep Schidt beer from going into bankruptcy until the beer finally ran out. We had been hanging out in the Bastard Brother’s garage but without beer our rag tag group of miscreants headed inside to the basement, thats when I knew the shit was going to reach absolute apeshit levels.

In the interest of time and due to the fact I can’t remember the minor details I present you with a list of pertinent highlights.

  1. I sat down on the crappy couch in the basement (which is where we ended up) propping my foot on the coffee table while holding onto an imaginary steering wheel. When Slaytanic questioned what I was doing exactly I respond by damn near yelling “I’m DRIVING my car MOTHERFUCKER you gonna get in or what?!”
  2. I walked over to the out dated tv with an archaic VCR on top of it. Once I reached the VCR i flipped it upside down and proceeded to start unplugging cords by ripping them forcefully from their various attachments. Again when asked by Slaytanic what the hell I was up to I glared at him and demanded to know “How do you get into this thing?!!!”
  3. In the drunk urinary tradition I wondered over to the water heater and promptly started pissing all over it as well as the floor.
  4. I violently and voraciously vomited in the kitchen sink clogging the holy hell out of it with chunks of regurgitated fish sticks (I had at this time managed to escape from the confines of the basement and was freely walking around The Brother’s parent’s house.)
  5. I was quickly escorted back to the basement where I stumbled into The Brother’s Mother’s at home pottery making shop. Turned out she was really into making clay pots and shit as a relaxing hobby. Now the mother had lined the walls with those cheap rickety metal shelves (not to mention the cheap selves where lined up around the room not just against the wall). They were the kind you see in industrial warehouses anyway she used them for storing her clay pots in various stages of completion . I decided I needed to sit down so I attempted to sit but ran into a serious issue. I tried to sit on one of the shelves but my ass and lower back got sort of stuck so I got trapped in a squatting position. When I stood up I incidentally shoved the self back (thanks Einstein ya dick) and the entire book shelve of clay pots came crashing down in a hailstorm of homemade havoc. Every one of those pots hit the cement basement floor and exploded sending clay fragments flying in every direction.
  6. The next morning after crashing in the basement I went upstairs to make the bladder gladder when I ran into The Bastard Brother’s parents The Dullards. Now the Dullard’s had arrived home an hour or so before our encounter, and they were staring intently at me as if to ask “Who is this bum in our house?!” I hate people staring at me period not to mention I also was insanely hungover and no longer gave a shit about any of it. I turned my head as I passed them on the way to the crapper I stated in brutally blunt honesty “What me? Your sons are the real assholes here.” In all do favor I was made aware before hand that The Dullard’s hated my specific race so thats why I gave them a face full of shit, fuck’em their racists.

Around the crack of noon Slaytanic, Space Dog and I walked off into the sun rise never to see The Bastard Brothers or their racist parents The Dullards ever again, and I for one couldn’t be happier.