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May 23

This world is going to hell in a shopping basket.

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I had a positively shit-tastic day at work today, where, despite my new found “just hang up” approach to servicing irrational douche nozzles, I still wanted to throat punch everyone. With a sledgehammer. I ended up skipping out of work a little early, and decided that I wasn’t going to cook tonight, so I stopped by the store on my way home.

I don’t know why I even try to go to the grocery store between 4:00 and 6:00 pm. It’s like every space cadet in the city is working the check out lines and 150 human puddles of duh are trying to do a month’s worth of grocery shopping at the same time. Of course, I’ll go in knowing exactly which 3 things I want and where to find them, but not one store has all three of them in stock at the same motherfucking time. And then there are those apotheoses of inhumane fuckery that I think some people still refer to as “people.”

I stopped first to pick up some apples that weren’t made of mushy suck, and grab a few other things. The first of the human island twatbadgers that I ran into, I almost quite literally ran into, because she came to a short and sudden stop just inside the door and checked her purse for her cell phone. Someone else that was walking in with me asked “Don’t you wish you could shove those people?”
“Yeah, but it’s generally frowned upon to push, shove, trip, or yell ‘Step aside, Fatty!’ without being asked to leave or speak to a police officer.”

And fuck shopping carts! Shopping carts should be illegal! Or require some sort of licensing/etiquette test.

Actually, some of you really should consider trying it the other way.

At one point, some old lady lacking any situational awareness whatsoever stopped dead in the middle of the aisle leading to all the checkout lines and turned around to talk to someone about her grandchild. After about 5 seconds of waiting for her to turn around and move her cart, I got fed up and moved it to the side for her. And by to the side, I mean I walked away with it and left it on the other side of the store.

I stopped at Target next and managed to get through throngs of screaming toddlers in race carts in record time. I got in line, dropped my crap on the conveyor belt, and tossed my little divider up behind my pile. Not ten seconds later, some short, fat bitch, whom I shall hereafter refer to as Hobbitwat, rammed her shopping cart into my ass and started throwing a cart full of lean cuisines and cat food on there. I stepped as far forward as I could without sitting in the lap of the lady in front of me, but Hobbitwat kept pushing her cart right up to my heels and getting audibly huffy that I wouldn’t move forward. Finally, I used my generously sized ass to bump her cart back into her and said, “Look, lady. I don’t know what you’re into, but I’m not a fan of pegging. Keep your cart out of my ass and your impatience to yourself!”  She glared at me for a few seconds before literally throwing everything back in her cart and storming away to another checkout line.

Maybe you should put a few of the lean cuisines back and get yourself some wax for your upper lip, you hideous troll beast.

I played frogger with a dozen shopping carts in the produce department and a dozen more sugar addled crotch droppings in the snack food aisle before emerging victorious with my pre-made tray of frozen Stouffer’s enchiladas. And then some 30-something lardass skidmark of humanity threw a bag of pizza rolls at his roommate, missed, and bounced it off my head instead.

“Ow! Goddammit, Asshole!” *rounding the corner, still pissed off* “God DAMN, I hate people!” Twenty pairs of eyes all fixed on me and my expression of pissed off indignation, not that it mattered to me… “Yeah, I was probably talking about every single one of you too!”

And then I went and stood in line behind those motherfuckers. Where one flappy lipped cock cozy decided to comment on my purchase.
*Gesturing at my enchiladas* “Those aren’t exactly good for you.”
*Me, fighting the urge to bludgeon her with my frozen goodness* “Huh. Well isn’t this interesting?”
“What?”
“I thought my face made perfectly clear the number of fucks I give right now.”
“Hmph. You’ve got quite an attitude. You must be a joy at parties.”
“Oh, honey. If I gave two shits about what some frumpy, judgmental, Midwestern hell harpy of a housewife thought about me, I’d probably be every inch as miserable as anyone who finds themselves in your presence.”

Ask Mr. Rex about the number of fucks he gives. Then divide by zero to get my number.

And this is why I shouldn’t be allowed to interface with the public at large.

 

5 comments

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  1. TheOtherLisa

    I so effin’ want to go shopping with you.

  2. Jana

    BWAAAA…Oh Mandi – Hobbitwat….you need to give that one some sort of precious tag line. Too funny!!
    Jana recently posted..I can make your skin glow, ’cause I am a saint, Y’all!My Profile

  3. Heather Rose

    “Midwestern hell harpy of a housewife” – Appropriate alliteration makes me assiduously happy. Also, I kind of wish I lived in the Midwest, just so I could use this.
    Heather Rose recently posted..The Bachelorette PartyMy Profile

  4. Misty

    I need to carry you around in my pocket and then release you upon all the hobbitwats and cockmunchers that I encounter every time I go shopping, and just watch the beautiful wordy retorts occur. Please make this happen.
    Misty recently posted..At Least It’s Not TowelsMy Profile

  5. Valerie

    You should probably start carrying a paintgun with you whilst shopping. It’s good for marking the assholes for future reference. (FYI: Its ok to just shoot everyone with it. They kinda had it coming…)

    Hugs!

    Valerie
    Valerie recently posted..Harry Potter Land is my JerusalemMy Profile

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