Hello my wonderful bluetitted brothers and sisters, how are we today? Great, good for you. Fuck off. Some of you may know Im a big Cinema goer; from the first film I ever saw in the Tallaght picturehouse in 1993 (Dennis the menace), to the 3 times a week I go today; I thoroughly enjoy kicking back with a bucket of popcorn in a dark room full of strangers and masturbating furiously to a 27 foot pair of celebrity bangers. Sex scenes aside, I just enjoy the idea of watching an epic battle or becoming emersed in the visuals of an alien planet, on a screen that is literally 800 times bigger than my TV at home. Seriously, who doesnt? But I do have one gripe: The confectionary stand. I think Ive reached the point where I believe there is an essential degree of ineptitude that is looked for when these primates are being interviewed for the job. With the invention of Facebook and how employers use it to scout candidates, I can only assume in this case they look for statements under the 'about me' section alikened to; 'Hi, Im Deborah and I enjoy eating hats' and 'Hello there, Im Jonathan, In my spare time I like to go to the park and feed deer'. However their process of recruitment unfolds Im sure its something very very special - and I dont mean special in a Leona Lewis high-note kind of way (I actually levitated during her debut performance of 'Run' - it was glorious). Maybe its ironic that when Im going to see a remake of Dawn of the dead, the staff monkeys are bumbling around behind the popcorn stand mumbling inaudible idiosyncrasies of the very Zombies from that film; 'Braaains'. It once took so long to prepare my highly complex order of popcorn, a hotdog and a large Coke that I missed the first 15 minutes of The Dark Knight; the clerk was drooling out one side of his mouth, his eyes looked like big black bong balls and he clambered around like a bid awkward daddy long legs. Not to mention, he sold me a ticket for a showing that started an hour earlier. That was clever wasnt it you bottomfeeder? Then when they finally complete the task you've given them, they deliver a smug kind of look of accomplishment. Sorry but you can stick that weiner right up your ringhole. I used to work in a cinema when I was younger, I thought it would be a great job because I loved films so much. But make no mistake, a ground level cinema job is just a cleaning job. I recall I had been asked to clean the toilets because some little beaver-child bastard had blasted a fecal avalanche out of his arse with such force that the ceramic exploded; instantly killing the kid and flooding the bathroom in a thick layered liquid shite blanket. There I stood looking at the shit just floating on by, mop in hand, shit everywhere, so much shit. Big black brown shit. There was so much shit I didnt know where the old shit ended and the new shit began. I hate shit. So, the great employee that I was, I plotted a route to the toilet bowl, reached over the log that was blocking my way and flushed the toilet again. The shit just kept coming. It looked like the toilet was getting sick, only the vomit was shit. I put cones outside the toilet restricting entry. Then I went to locker room for a couple of minutes. My team leader at the time came to me; 'Declan did you clean the toilet?'. I replied; 'yes why?'. He responded, 'its flooded again, someone must have flushed'. Declan responds -'No way, well i've cleaned it, can you get someone else to clean it again please?' - 'Sure'. SLAM DUNK! Im off to to the Ben & Jerry's stand to eat one of their revoltingly named ice-creams. Yes nothing makes me want to spend 11Euro on an egg cup sized portion of ice-cream like the name 'Phish food' (Conjures up a pong of stale tuna), 'Fossil Fuel' (Oh yes, lets eat something thats named after toxic gases that are formed from dead organisms) and 'Smores' (Sounds like a smurf thrush infection). Actually, after writing this post Im never going to the cinema again...
Bottomline - Deer eat grass Jonathan
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