Excursion to Stinky Town
So I went out of the house this past Monday. I know, uncharacteristic of me but I needed blank discs and a headset.
Anyway, I saw a headset I relally like don ThinkGeek but it was $20 +s&h and I recognized the brand (logitec) as a Wal-Mart brand so I checked the Wally World website. Sure enough, $13.95. More than $10 savings whcih is enough to buya decent supply of discs for storing my ever increasing collection of .psd's and web templates. (never trust your hard disk. they lie!)
So off to Wal-Mart I go. I cruise the electronics section for a while, find my headset and discs and then begin to persuse the software for cheap-o games that every other store int eh country has taken from the shelves. It's a really good place to get older games for my nephews so they are exposed to the archaic world of 16 bit.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere I hear "fuch dat, camille. I ain'ts got time ffo your trials, woe-man". I turn expectign to see Superfly and his girlfriend. instead it is some skinny trailer trash kid in a wifebeater and a hat that seems to be on his head without his permission talking on a cell phone.. really loud. it's obvious he is breakgin upw tih his girl and tryign to show his excessive manhood by doing it so that everyone in Wal-Mart can hear his exceptional grasp on the venacular of prison inmates.
I move down the aisle since he has camped (NO SPAWNCAMPING YOU TWIT!) in my personal space. Now I am loooking at el cheap-o windows upgrades and software I wouldn't let in the room with my delicious computer much less imagine installing on 'my precious'. before these thoughts are clearly set in ym swirling brain, I hear Customer # 7,095,382,128,745... mewling in ym ear again. He's followed me down the aisle! I move back to the games. kepe in mind the only people ont eh aisle are myself, "romeo" and his sidekick who has been under his arse (and consequently mine) the entire time with a "I just snorted a gram all by my self" smile on his young, uneducated face.
I set my mind on the words I need to say ("if i turn aroudn to see or hear you one more time i'm going to be forced to beat you and your pet tweeker to death with your fashionable, 9 pound, garage door opener phone now back away slowly before I unleash all the shit the lithium curtails and be nicer to your girl because you're going to miss her when you get sentenced for selling pot to a cop you low level piece of fake thug drip-down") and just as I begin to turn I catch a glimps of Tweekie's face goign ghost white as he tugs on the shirt of Romeo. Romeo looks at Tweekie with some irritation and then lifts his big dumb eyes to meet mine before mimicing the sheet-white sidekick. I didn't see or hear from him again but I was sorely disappointed that I wasn't able to join in the white-trash fun at Wal-Mart.
On my way out I realize it is the first of the month and lunchtime. In G-Veags, this means two things. Government checks are in grubby, shaky hands and all the meth labs are closed for resupply. So I am tryign to weave my way out of the inbred reunion and find myself having to walk incredibly close to some of the scantily clad and unwashed minions of Sam Walton's ghost. It was like playing 25 on 25 basketball where everyone is on teh no-shirts team. Just sweaty, rancid bodies milling about. I feinted to the left, tuck-rolled to the right
*Tumble* (12+19=31 TN=30 Success!)
and found the quick checkout. No time to teach math to the cashier today. Then i saw it. The beautiful shimmer of the infrared lens over the exit. i smiled and it took pity and engaged the hissing door to freedom and less toxic air. A deep breath and a short sprint and I was back in the car with the AC softly soothing my troubled mind. I had lunch with the parents (pizza and prozac) and fell into a haze broken only by sound of my key turning in my own door. I was home. And I think I've had enough crack heads and body odor to last me a lifetime. or at least until next month when I run out of ramen noodles.
Anyway, I saw a headset I relally like don ThinkGeek but it was $20 +s&h and I recognized the brand (logitec) as a Wal-Mart brand so I checked the Wally World website. Sure enough, $13.95. More than $10 savings whcih is enough to buya decent supply of discs for storing my ever increasing collection of .psd's and web templates. (never trust your hard disk. they lie!)
So off to Wal-Mart I go. I cruise the electronics section for a while, find my headset and discs and then begin to persuse the software for cheap-o games that every other store int eh country has taken from the shelves. It's a really good place to get older games for my nephews so they are exposed to the archaic world of 16 bit.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere I hear "fuch dat, camille. I ain'ts got time ffo your trials, woe-man". I turn expectign to see Superfly and his girlfriend. instead it is some skinny trailer trash kid in a wifebeater and a hat that seems to be on his head without his permission talking on a cell phone.. really loud. it's obvious he is breakgin upw tih his girl and tryign to show his excessive manhood by doing it so that everyone in Wal-Mart can hear his exceptional grasp on the venacular of prison inmates.
I move down the aisle since he has camped (NO SPAWNCAMPING YOU TWIT!) in my personal space. Now I am loooking at el cheap-o windows upgrades and software I wouldn't let in the room with my delicious computer much less imagine installing on 'my precious'. before these thoughts are clearly set in ym swirling brain, I hear Customer # 7,095,382,128,745... mewling in ym ear again. He's followed me down the aisle! I move back to the games. kepe in mind the only people ont eh aisle are myself, "romeo" and his sidekick who has been under his arse (and consequently mine) the entire time with a "I just snorted a gram all by my self" smile on his young, uneducated face.
I set my mind on the words I need to say ("if i turn aroudn to see or hear you one more time i'm going to be forced to beat you and your pet tweeker to death with your fashionable, 9 pound, garage door opener phone now back away slowly before I unleash all the shit the lithium curtails and be nicer to your girl because you're going to miss her when you get sentenced for selling pot to a cop you low level piece of fake thug drip-down") and just as I begin to turn I catch a glimps of Tweekie's face goign ghost white as he tugs on the shirt of Romeo. Romeo looks at Tweekie with some irritation and then lifts his big dumb eyes to meet mine before mimicing the sheet-white sidekick. I didn't see or hear from him again but I was sorely disappointed that I wasn't able to join in the white-trash fun at Wal-Mart.
On my way out I realize it is the first of the month and lunchtime. In G-Veags, this means two things. Government checks are in grubby, shaky hands and all the meth labs are closed for resupply. So I am tryign to weave my way out of the inbred reunion and find myself having to walk incredibly close to some of the scantily clad and unwashed minions of Sam Walton's ghost. It was like playing 25 on 25 basketball where everyone is on teh no-shirts team. Just sweaty, rancid bodies milling about. I feinted to the left, tuck-rolled to the right
*Tumble* (12+19=31 TN=30 Success!)
and found the quick checkout. No time to teach math to the cashier today. Then i saw it. The beautiful shimmer of the infrared lens over the exit. i smiled and it took pity and engaged the hissing door to freedom and less toxic air. A deep breath and a short sprint and I was back in the car with the AC softly soothing my troubled mind. I had lunch with the parents (pizza and prozac) and fell into a haze broken only by sound of my key turning in my own door. I was home. And I think I've had enough crack heads and body odor to last me a lifetime. or at least until next month when I run out of ramen noodles.