Crazy Shit- Hens, Notebooks and Cashiers

There is this fucking annoying hen at my neighbour’s house who incidentally also has several pigeons, some fucking annoying puppies and TURKEYS ! Even though I love dogs, I’ve grown to hate those fucking fucked up puppies. They don’t seem to have anything better to do that squeal with terror throughout the whole fucking day ! For fucks sake, we have one grown up dog and a puppy and I don’t see them running around squealing and whining like lunatic bastards.  See, even right now they are fucking screaming for no apparent reason. Also, there is this bitch hen who starts to scream her fucking guts out exactly at 10 am and doesn’t stop till noon. You really have to hear this noise to know what kind of a hell I’m going through here. I swear that if this continues, one day I’ll go fucking postal and kill all these fucking annoying bastards, and their cousins.

Also, there is this notebook I’m expecting and well, lets just say that this Notebook took more time to arrive from Kollupitiya to Dehiwala than what it took for a Game DVD to arrive all the way from Hong Kong. This goes to show how that fucking company sucks fucking goat balls.

And today I went in to this pharmacy to buy some medicinal cream and a hair cream. It took just 2 mins to get my hands on the reciepts, but then the surprises began. When I got the receipt, I instinctively gave the amount to the girl who printed the receipt. But instead of accepting like what any normal shop would do, she sent me all the way across the shop to the shady looking cashier booth. There the guy was moving slower than a slug on a knife. It went like this -

1. I gave the receipt to the guy.

2. Looks at it, then looks around his desk for several minutes, probably wondering why the hell this stranger handed him a fucking piece of paper.

3. Remembers that HE is the cashier.

4. Enters the amount and codes, at 1 letter per minute.

5. Again looks around his desk aimlessly. I was beginning to think that maybe this guy was on crack or pot.

6. Finally he sees what he is looking for and grabs it. It was the fucking ’seal’.

7. Again looks around for the ink box. Finds it and presses the ’seal’ on it atleast several hundred times.

8. Searches for the receipts he just reprinted.

9. Stamps them.

10. Wonders what the hell he should do with them

11. Realizes what he has to do and hands them over to me.

After this torturous 15 mins, I was actually beginning to think that maybe the pharmacy doesn’t want to take our money, but We were forcing our money on to them.

Yeah, I’m fucking angry over the fucking notebook.