You get it because his name was Marty and you like shop at a mart... whatever. I fucking love shopping, well except when I'm alone. The main problem with shopping alone is not having anyone to share a funny with which usually results in an embarrassing snort. Especially during the day when you stagger through a geriatric convention hitting whopping speeds of underwater snail proportions. In space no one can hear you scream and a elderly person on line cannot hear themselves passing gas (I call them mummy stinks). There's the odd soccer mom who sounds like they're from Boston who must discuss the tabloids covers aloud. Yeah that sounds like it would be a wicked article you twat. Or the man in 60's, tanned and dressed like a Miami Vice throwback on the prowl for ass and a ripe cantaloupe. At least that guy dresses up, what the fuck is wrong with people that go shopping in their shit stained pants and a piece of chicken on their dumb holey shirt? I have to shop there I don't want dirty pieces of shit touching everything I might have considered buying. They really ruin my aisle perusal. I think all shelves should have sneeze guards because most people (cough... foreigners...cough...chinks and russians...cough) have no fucking manners. I wish the butch gay couples who go shopping late on Fridays and Saturdays should rise up this unfashionable unmannered nightmares. Yeah we know when you go shopping, we know you're out there, we're straight not dumb.
No comments:
Post a Comment