Can’t I just walk to Old Navy and return these cargo pants in peace without seeing your fat lazy ass getting molested by a robot in front of Cinnabon?
I don’t need to see you on the brink of an orgasm while you sit there getting a happy ending from a La-Z-Boy in your Everybody Loves Raymond T-shirt. And for the love of God, can you PLEASE put your shoes (Crocs) back on? Your dirty Frito toenails are ruining my appetite for Sbarro.
Is this “massage” a wise investment? Can you really relax while basking in the glow of The Cell Phone Zone? Luckily, you won’t need massage oil because the sweat of every Insane Clown Posse fan who preceded you keeps your little robot chair nice and lubed.
Congratulations, you found a way to make shopping malls even more horrible.
Hey great, you found a way to make creepy mannequins even more nightmarish!
Maybe it’s because I accidentally said “excuse me” to a mannequin once, or maybe it’s because female mannequins with erect nipples honestly turn me on a little, I don’t know but I just sort of feel animosity towards them. They stand there judging you with their perfect bodies and handless wrists, convincing you to buy shit at Old Navy that you don’t even like. They suck you in with their spell and make you ponder unthinkable things like, “maybe those Dockers would look good on me.”
Mannequins are assholes, but living mannequins are the poo that squeezes out of that asshole. I feel dumb enough at the mall without some vapid, shiny model giving me the stink-eye while I check out the crotch of their jeans. I’m sorry, I just need to see if it’s a zipper or a button fly. I can’t help it if you happen to be wearing those jeans as I slowly run my pizza-covered hands up the inner thigh of the Levi’s I may or may not purchase. Who told you to be a fucking mannequin for a living?
The word mannequin, when broken down to its Latin roots, literally translates to.. how the fuck do I know what it means? I just know it doesn’t mean 19-year-old-dumb-model-standing-there-making-me-feel-uncomfortable-while-I’m-staring-at-her-nipples.
I may have to drink about 30 beers to get through this one. There is nothing that would make me act like these cackling hens. These psychos run around like they have flies buzzing around their eyes and some lifesaving U.N. helicopter is hovering above, dropping rice and water. You could fill a room with amazing FREE vintage guitars and I would STILL refuse to scream and claw my way over my fellow man to get one.
Shouldn’t buying a wedding dress be a nice, calm, sweet memory to be shared with your mother and a few close friends? Aren’t you supposed to sip Champagne and talk about your periods? Instead, these idiots put their little matching outfits on (annoying) and go Lord of the Flies all over each other. I don’t care if acting like a plundering pirate saves you a few hundred dollars, nothing is worth demeaning yourself like this.
I’m going to say this at the risk of offending all the women who are reading this, but this clip of the “Running of the Brides” is like an instructional video for how to make a guy’s balls shrink up into his body, forever. I’m just being honest here ladies, it’s shit like this that makes guys occasionally want to be as far away from you as possible. Not YOU personally, I’m talking about these assholes. Just watch the women in the bottom left corner as they selfishly guard their giant pile of dresses like a pack of wolves. CLASSY! Hey, where did my balls go?
I have always put off writing about Walmart because there is too much to say, and honestly, I’m too lazy to really do it justice. Let’s just say I would literally not spend a penny in Walmart, even if my life depended on it. I watched Walmart breeze into both of the tiny, rural towns my parents are from and completely destroy them. It goes deeper than just causing a bunch of mom-and-pop shops to close, it tears the community apart. In these small towns, Main Street was more than just a place to shop, it was an important bond that helped keep the residents connected. You bought school clothes for your children from the same people who sold you your school clothes when you were a kid. It matters, it just does. Walmart comes to town with all kinds of bullshit promises and just rapes the town. I fucking hate them.
It’s late and I don’t have the energy to write, so please enjoy this instead…
People of Walmart (update: I think this site just crashed so the link might be broken. Fucking stupid Walmart)
You know what I’m talking about right? You go to 7-11 to buy some beef jerky, a 2-liter of Extreme Mountain Dew and the latest issue of Juggs and when the grumpy clerk hands you your change he also hands you 15 receipts, rendering your hands useless. You’ve got the bag of porn in one hand, your open wallet in the other, and now you have to figure out how to hold dollar bills, a bunch of dimes and 40 feet of receipts. The stress builds, because after all this is a convenience store and the fact that you are paralyzed by your inability to handle all this shit at the same time is becoming very inconvenient to the growing line behind you. You panic and your brow begins to sweat. Holy shit, why is this happening to you, WHY? You fall to the floor and cry in the fetal position. Right? At least that’s what I do.
Is it too much to ask for them to hand me my bills first, followed by my coins after the bills are tucked in the wallet and THEN my receipt? Actually, just put the receipt in the bag. Am I alone in my thinking here?
Here’s the scene… you are in line at the supermarket with someone making a purchase. You are close enough to the front of the line to read all about Jenifer Aniston’s broken heart when all of a sudden your shopping partner says “oh wait, I will be right back I need to grab something” and they disappear into the ether. What?
I immediately start to panic. What if they don’t make it back in time? I’m already in the belly of the beast, I’m past the magazine perimeter! I’m in the CANDY ZONE! Am I going to have to remove everything from the conveyor belt? Fuck! Why would anyone do this to me?
Sure, they always casually show up just in time and everything works out but what the hell, I almost had a heart attack. I’m not kidding, I HATE being left in line alone!
