Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Wal-WHAT THE &*$?!

Wal-Mart. We've all seen those "People of Wal-Mart" photos circulating around online. Grossly overweight people wearing very little, very tacky clothing. Usually bending over or braless-ness is involved, especially where a bra would be more than a little helpful. Let me preface this by saying I really, REALLY hate Wal-Mart and avoid it all costs. I know there are a lot of people who don't shop there for moral reasons. Unfair trade practices and being mean to workers. Whatever. There's nothing moral about my convictions.  I just think it's depressing as hell and every time I have no choice but to go there I want to kill myself shortly after walking through the doors. That fucking smiley face should have two x's for eyes and its tongue lolling out of its mouth 'cause that's the frame of mind the place puts me in. It's like they go out of their way to hire slow moving people from two-tooth county. Padookaville? Sixth-grade education? Here's a blue're in! And if you're over eighty, all the better! You're just so grateful you're still alive you'll work for peanuts! Like literally. Peanuts. Shell-on. Careful of your chopper there, grandpa. And the shoppers? The only thing I can figure out is that there's some kind of Wal-Mart goggle thing they have going on once you walk in there because I have NEVER seen any people in my area that look like these folks anyplace other than Wal-Mart. It's like they bus 'em in or something. I have NO idea where they are coming from. I'm pretty sure you could be in Beverly Hills and the people would all look exactly like they do at every other Wal-Mart I've ever been to. Doesn't matter where it is. Saggy boobs, dirty clothes, carts with 15 children hanging off of them. My fear is that when I walk in, I automatically appear as such to others. My child suddenly spilts into ten, my boobs drop to my waist and I've got my hair in a bright pink banana clip. Oh, and rhinestones on my nails 'cause I'm a fancy lady. Shit. Here I was laboring under the pretense that I was quite superior. Uh-oh. It's a conspiracy. We'll be so depressed and look so terrible we'll only want to associate with our own kind. Which of course can be found only at Wally World. Wal-mart really IS the devil.

1 comment:

  1. I think there's a whole planet where these people come from, and they teleport in via the Wal-Mart-o-ponder in utility closets in the back. It's like alien central in the MIB movies.

    Whoops, I think I hit too close to home. A van just pulled up and two black-suited men with shades are walking up to my house now...