Fuck you all, you god damn fucking lazy ass co-workers.
To Jessica at the Bookstore: I hate you so much because you're a god damn slacker. If the Bookstore didn't have a non-confrontational manager you'd have had your ass fired by mid-semester. What the fuck is your problem? You don't come in for half the Tuesday's you're supposed to, and guess who picks up the front desk slack? Me, you wench. Your excuses wear thin, and now you've pissed off two supervisors. I hope your ass gets canned, but I'm smart enough to know they won't fire you. I cannot believe you bought back a book missing so many god-damn pages. How do you miss that?! The binding was practically swiss cheese and huge chunks were HANGING out of the book! What the hell is wrong with you?!
To Mary at the Bookstore: Fuck you, Fuck your mom who always fucking calls the store phone looking for your fat white ass, and fuck your boyfriend. This is a god-damn job, I don't care how lovestruck you are with your boyfriend at the Cash Register, you need to stop fucking around and hanging with him when rush is going, and by god if you give me any more lip when I pull you away from your boyfriend to do something important, I will reach over and slap the shit out of the guy and fuck up his quasimodo face on principle. I don't take back-talk from the supervisors, I will not take it from you.
To Frances the Supervisor: So I hear you're out for surgery for a while. Good. I hate your guts. You aren't productive as a supervisor anyway and your ignorance would only hinder the Buyback. I also hear it might be cancer-related. Well, I'm not suprised you chain-smoking drug addict! You step out every thirty freaking minutes for a smoke, what the hell do you expect?!
That is all.