Tag Archives: Mistakes

If you didn’t know…

I imagine this information has made it’s way to everyone, but as a recap and to chronicle the event…

The Ref made an appearance at Assrape yesterday. He let the proverbial cat out of the bag to the Captain. However, to my knowledge, that was the extent of the visit. What a waste. I fail to see the purpose of giving “anonymous” information when the only outcome is to tell shithead what was said. Furthermore, it would seem that the Captain is on a crash course to fine tune his skills at being a douche. Later that evening, our unsung leader who had been working wing finished his duties and helped me out with some of my closing efforts. Boob and myself decided there was no use in him staying, he was supposed to be there till 12, and told him to take off. Not 10 minutes later the Captain arrived and the first words out of his mouth were “where is blah”. Well, actually I tell a lie, the first words out of his mouth were “where is….where is…uh….where is….where…..” SPIT IT OUT MOTHERFUCKER! Long story short, he made him come back in. They vanished into a hallway for a good half hour or so…who knows. I called it a while back, this company has no intentions of doing anything about this situation. They’ve known it existed for 20 years now and haven’t acted yet. This was all a charade to make us feel good for the time being.

It will make the work experience interesting for a while, possibly for a good goddamn long time. The Captain is hardly professional enough to handle the situation of knowing that everyone is against him and, personally, I have no intentions of making that any easier on him. With how he played things last night my friendliness is over. I can work along side him if I have to but that will be the extent of it. If he has a question, I’ll answer. I don’t foresee any other conversation between us taking place. If we order pizza…I’ll offer to everyone there, except him. He thought he was lonely before….

I’d rather hope I’m not the only one with this mindset, one person won’t matter.

I hate working anymore

"In the crowd of pain, Captain Charisma comes without any shame,
And mom and dad are the ones you can blame
Charisma died today [Cheers!!!]
He blew his brains out into the bay,
In the state of mind in [his] own private suicide"

Captain Charisma is being a fuckin retard… He thinks he can send bad messages to me and get away with it… No way… I am going to bad another talk with his face. Hells fuckin no… Him and I are going to have another talk and I will not be surprised if I get fired. I hope not though. I need drinking money and porn. I hope next time I work, he does not have his shirt untucked and keeps on disappearing to the bathroom. I was told by the janitor that C2 was going around talking to himself about the theatre. I then was told he had his hands in a fist and was beating them up and down… Wow… What are suppose think about that shit.

Last week, we had a home office person at the good ol theatre. She was there is talk about Captain Charisma. No one decided to hold back on how much C2 sucks at life. I am guessing that he should be fired by this week and the latest next week. If they do not fired his old fuckin ass, someone will be going even higher than it has… THX 33888444466. You rule!

the BIG K

I hate the weekends, but not this one

“Oh therapy, can you please fill the void? Is he retarded or is he just unemployed”

On last Friday (Feb 25th), the Ref decided to make his way down to the theater… He talked to some of the employees about Captain Charisma. I had no idea why his ass was here, but I was informed later on why… C2 sucks at life.

This weekend, Captain Charisma had some “friends” at the theater… They were here to talk to him about how much he sucks at life. Actually, they did not even talk to him… She came here and talked to all the staff and managers. They did not even talk to him about the problem. Since he is the problem, everyone and their mother bashed him.

I am willing to bet that they will not fire him, but move him to another location. What type of fuckin company does that shit? I know one that does. Fuck it… Can you believe that we cannot tell anyone that some of us hang out?!? What type of shit is that? The point of me rambling on is, C2 has about 97.69% chance of getting fired… I really hope that drunk loses his job and crawls into a hole in the wall… I just hope he does not come back and shoot the place up, even though I know he does not have the balls to do so.

the BIG K

Re: Masterbating at Work?

Holy shit D!?!?! That shit is so fuckin right… I completely agree that the fuck is jacking off to little kids… That sick motherfucker… or should I say Kidfucker. I seriously wish he would just leave… I cannot believe they still employ that piece of shit. Fuck em

the BIG K 69

Masterbating at Work?

Ok Ok Ok… I know that your taken back by the title, but I have a theory. We see the captain “disappear” many times a shift (mostly during busy times on the weekend). We can also see the captain, shirt untucked, tie in disarray, and pants lopsided. Is it safe to put two and two together and ASSUME that he is masterbating at work??? Seeing hundreds of “little” kids run through his theater must make him “Happy?” many times through the course of his unproductive shift. One would have to assume that he is panking the johnson at work! I leave this open to discuss…

The mayhem of the muster

While on a break late at night,
I ordered a burger and fries,
upon inspection I got a fright,
there was no muster to my demise.

I said “Miss, I miss my muster.”,
I would have proceeded on and cussed her.
She said, however, listen, Buster, I’m mister muster,
I then did realize an adam’s apple of great size.

Said mister muster, “it’s in a cluster,
down in yonder bin”.
Then to my surprise, before my eyes,
who would but walk in?

An adjuster to count said muster,
one by one the entire cluster.
I waited while he counted in the bin,
but my break from Assrape was coming to an end!

I seized the muster from the cluster,
out from under the adjuster.
In a panic, as passing mister muster,
I did entrust her,
these parting words “It’s spelled, and pronounced, MUSTARD you fucking retard.”

Darwin was a Crackpot

To my fellow bloggers:
Should you have the need to attend to something of greater importance such as doing your taxes, coddling a laughing child, or masturbating I encourage you to do so now because this is the result of two consecutive long boring nights at Assrape Incorporated where the mind was allowed to wander for extended periods of time. Be forewarned that this rant could take you a minute to read and time is one thing you’ll never get back.

Since the dawn of recorded time man has questioned many things. The greatest of these unanswered quandaries would have to be “where did we come from”. Now, While I do not suggest to know, first hand, the answer to this question I submit to you, the happy reader, that I am capable of disproving, and expounding upon, one such long standing theory.

Darwinism. The foundation of Darwinism is summed up with the statement “survival of the fittest”. The theory being that the strongest, fastest, and the smartest would survive the test of time and rise to the top. The slower, both mentally and physically, would sink into the abyss of nothingness, like David Hassellhoff, and be forgotten. While at face value this all seems a safe assumption life is not without its little surprises like phone solicitors, TV evangelists, and Captain Charisma.

To further illustrate the Darwin theory we will, temporarily of course, travel back to the stone age. A time in our history where the human courtship process consisted of beating the woman with a club and dragging her home with you. I realize this seems remarkably close to the modern process; the subtle difference being that the male was not forced to incur the costs of getting the female drunk beforehand.

Our stonage city is made up of three families. Each family is headed up by the bread winner, we will refer to them as Unga, Bunga, and Cunga. Well, one day, while admiring each others lepard print togas the boys realized that the food supply was running low so they set about the task of a hunt. Many days and nights passed but the fruits of their labors turned out to be a mammoth; A hearty meal indeed, which can be supported by anyone that has ever seen an episode of the Flintstones.

Now, with a food supply to last till the next ice age the three are allowed to go their own ways and pass the time in leisure. Unga, the brute he is, came to love the thrill of the hunt while out and decides to go track himself down some more game. Bunga, whose wife had the biggest boobies a potbellied cromagnan could ever want, chose to waste away his days sitting on his caveman ass in his caveman home looking up at the caveman ceiling pondering caveman thoughts. Cunga, however, created for himself a little game. He would balance a stick on a big rock and try to knock it off by throwing smaller rocks at it. He called the game “knock the stick off the big rock with small rocks”. Many archaeologists to date blame Cunga’s poor naming scheme for the lack of popularity the game acrued.

Now lets evaluate the situation for our over sized and under brained friends.

Unga runs the risk of being eaten, getting lost, and running out of food for himself while on his “hunt”. Should he succeed, however, he will have improved his own hunting skills, and therefore his survival likelihood, as well his own fitness. His genes will pass on to create a small margin of the individuals that are more physical than most. A small percentage only because most of the Ungas of the world ended up as somethings toothpick. It has been argued, however, that this “Unga gene” must be cyclic among humans as it has been known to pop up from time to time in our society in individuals like Joseph Stalin, Adolphe Hitler, and Bill Gates.

Bunga, much like Unga, has drastically narrowed his array of activities by staring at his caveman ceiling and thinking his caveman thoughts. Many Bungas of the world could no longer keep up with the others, due to lack of physical abilities, and as such in hard times were probably eaten. Every now and again, however, a Bunga would have a caveman thought. A good caveman thought. The kind of caveman thought that makes you want to think it. A tool, perhaps, the wheel. It would appear in a vision to him much like the flux capacitor appeared to Dr. Brown. The Bunga with such a thought would survive to spread his seed. Examples of Bunga inventions include, but are not limited to, silly putty, edible underwear, and that sticky tack used to put up posters.

Most of us are Cungas. Cunga passed his time throwing that rock, which kept him physically fit to an extent. He also explored his ingenuity to expand his pile of games to include “jump the log”, “kick the rock”, and my personal favorite “hit the rock with the stick”. Cunga became the fittest, so to speak, through possessing a broader base of skills than both Unga and Bunga. He also allowed himself proper leisure time, enjoying his games, to rest and relax.

At this point you may be questioning the title to this article as all seems to be in order. The flaw, I tell you, is Dunga. Yes, that’s right, Dunga, who has remained unmentioned until this point. Dunga was the great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather of Captain Charisma.

Returning to our prior example it’s worth noting that Dunga did not attend the happy hunting expedition. Indeed a cave-to-cave survey was held and all felt Dunga far too incapable to handle the burden of sharpening a stick and poking something with it. Instead Dunga stayed home in his cave, alone, forgotten, and unloved…just like the Captain.

Dunga can be attributed to one major thing in our history. Cave writings. Yes, those lovely drawings of buffalo and stickmen found on the interiors of caves where drawn by downtrodden Dungas. The preferred medium for such masterpieces is believed to have been their own feces.

So, while Unga, Bunga, and Cunga were out fending for themselves bagging that mammoth, Dunga was at home throwing out another poopy picasso for man to find millions of years later. It is important to fully understand Dunga, both who he was and what he did, for the full explanation to make sense. Dunga was a freeloader. Too innable to handle himself to even be wanted along on the hunting trip that would feed and support him yet he certainly was willing to take his share of the spoils. He was a leech. A festering hemorroid on the asshole of the earth. Yet, he survived. Darwins theory should have left him dead and forgotten ages ago, but that’s not what happened.

Furthermore the existance of the “Dunga gene” as it is seen today further defies logic. Given the courting methods mentioned earlier it is HIGHLY unlikely that reproduction would have ever occurred. The level of bludgeoning necessary to get any human being with functional sexual organs into a Dunga’s cave would have caused such severe trauma to the head that, should an offspring be conceived, it’s lifespan would have been unexplainably short. One parent, the Dunga, is a poopy writing reject that is all but ignored by the rest of the caveman society. The other parent has received a concussion to the degree of being mentally retarded. How this gene survived defies Darwin.

The most intriguing part of this entire situation is the position of authority that Captain Charisma has handjobbed his way into. This Dunga of a man has not only survived to adulthood but he is the head manager of a complex for a relatively sizeable corporation! Granted, there are certain other shortcomings that have remained. He is single, alone, and forgotten by most of the world. I postulate this is entirely because it would no longer be legal to deliver such a near lethal blow these days.

So now we have a firm understanding of Darwinism and it’s mistakes and oversights. The next time you consider mocking someones opinion of creationism (or any other theory) remember that Darwin was a Crackpot! Evaluate their theory. If there is a possibility for the lowest common denominator cocksucking his way to the top in their version of “where did we come from” then it might just be true!

I Feel Now that OUR Point has been Proven

I was minding my own business and checkin out email. I noticed a
weird email, so I decided to take a quick look… It was a check on
the theatre. Nothing big we usually score around 90-95%. I saw
scored in the 70%-75% range. What the FUCK?!? We have not been that
low ever!!! I wonder who could be at fault.

You see we kept on telling The Ref that Captain Charisma is a fuckin
joke… He sucks at life and makes all of us look bad. No matter what
we tell The Ref, he shrugs it off like nothing is the matter. C.C.
cannot even doing an 8 person schedule right. He makes some people
work 8 days in a fuckin row. How fucked up is that? I swear one day
he is going to get called out on it… I think today might be that
day. This is the second time in a row something was said about C.C.
being a dumbass. I am not kidding you when I say that this is
straight from a corporate report on the theatre:

Name of Manager on Duty: Captain Charisma
Age: 50
Hair: Balding Brown/Grey
Height: 5′ 8″
“THE MANAGER DID NOT SEEM TO WANT TO INTERACT WITH THE PATRONS. WHEN
HE WAS CALLED OVER TO ASSIST WITH SOMETHING AT THE CONCESSION STAND,
HE DID NOT LOOK AT ANYONE OR SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE.” – exact quote

This is the 2nd time he has been called out… I hope that The Ref
will do something about.

Here is the ironic part of the whole situation… I was told
yesterday that on Saturday we had a secret shopper. The “Slave” said
that they swear there was a secret shopper in on Saturday. I was
like, “BULLSHIT”. “There are never any that come in anymore.” I
stand corrected.

Captain Charisma mumbled something a week ago that I forgot to post.
He mumbled, “I know I saw you and zaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…” Which
I replied, “What?!?” I figured out what he was referring to. He
swears TheBIGK69 is hanging out with someone who is not in the “same”
position… Who the fuck cares? Shit, we do not even work together
that much… (That Much = Never)
I was talking the chick, who I am fucking hard 3 times a week and she
works at the theatre, about the problem. She was wondering if at some
point he was so trashed he saw someone who looked like BK and Z69.
Everything started to make sense… The drinking references and the
“blow-ups” during work. He has a BAD-fucking problem with beer… I
think that if he were ever to get fired, he would say it is because he
has a drinking problem. I swear that stupid son-of-a-bitch would pull
that shit out of his ass. GOSH, I hate that guy.

I know that “M” will be putting up a rant about how fuckin stupid
Captain Charisma is… I have not heard much from Zann69 due to the
fact we never work together because CC is a faggot. Any ways I need
more sleep…

LATE
the BIG K

I got a bad case of…..

[Charisma]-inides. Cant think, I’m pissy, paceing, and rolling up papers in my hand. I can’t look a person in the eye and I have no balls. Even the kiddy porn isn’t making me feel better. If I had WoW then maybe that would help… Or possably an XBox. Naa! Fuck CC and let me get a big “hell ya” for DAC on Saturday night!

See this is the shit I am talking about…

Alright bitches… Here is another that I received from a corporate
email from Captain Charisma. Instead of the phrase, “Broken Window”,
he decides to completely fuck that up and use “broken windom”… How
the fuck does he get away with shit like this… I think he blew some
dude for a tenure at this place. FUCK YOU Captain Charisma!!!

the BIG K