Shut up your freaking children.


When you call your mortgage company and your kids are flat out screaming in the background so loud that the phone registers it then it breaks up, you need to fucking calm them down or discipline them. It’s not cute, it’s not funny, and you are raising a spoiled fucking brat. I’m tired of my ears being molested by your fucking child’s banshee screams. If I was allowed one curse per day at this job I’d save it for you. I’d tell you to control your fucking children, or shut your fucking child up. Or better yet I’d say I’m sorry I can’t fucking hear you over that screaming banshee you have, move rooms if you want me to help you.

Like holy fucking shit. I already don’t like children. You and your screeching crotch goblin are solidifying my fucking hatred of them.

Rant over, any tips on politely telling them their crotch goblin is too fucking loud and I can’t hear them?


What do you think?

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I have no idea why you’re calling in and apparently neither do you?

Online casinos are making my work life hell