two moments
i went to a mall with brian today. we took a break from shopping for camouflage and thought we would hop over to Something To Do and maybe buy a german board game or monopoly calculator(yeah, that's a real item. a calculator has been created with the sole purpose of calculating the cost of rent on park place if it has two hotels. this information is printed on the deed to said property, but in case you feel the need to recheck the information printed on the cardboard there is a machine designed to do just that). neither of us had any idea where the store was, so we ended up wandering through each wing of the mall until we finally reached our destination. we had just walked to the end of the second wing of the mall and had found no Something To Do wheen brian tapped my shoulder and said, "hey dude," and nodded upwards. i looked up the mezzazine level of the mall and standing directly above us in the food court was a cheerleader in uniform.
we could see up her skirt.
the moment was remarkable. it was as if reality had bent itself downward as brian nudged me, then suddenly sprang back into place as i looked upward. the force of this movement was enough to fling the two of us into a universe actually dominated by the rules of the Teen Sex Comedy. as we walked passed viewing distance and into the portion of the mall that's vaguely occupied by a starbucks the enormity of what had just happened hit me.
when does a cheerleader ever actually where her uniform in public? the only places i've ever actually seen girls in cheerleading uniforms are football games and porn sites. high school football season is over, so she couldn't have come straight from a game. she could not have been a porn star, because her hair was in a pony tail. it's required for a porn star to wear her hair in pig tails if she is in a cheerleading uniform. this is done to distract the porn viewer from noticing that the "girl" is actually a hagged out forty year old who stinks of cigars. our attention is meant to drift from pig tail to pig tail to cheerleading skirt in a vicious triangle of distraction.
what's that you say? maybe she wore the uniform out of a sense of irony? no, no, no. any girl whose school spirit is strong enough to dictate that the color of her undershorts match the color of her skirt could not have been ironic. irony can't explain why she was in the mall wearing that uniform at that time in that place. in fact, nothing can. there is no explanation for all of those factors coming together. ...unless...unless it was god.
god wanted me to look up that cheerleader's skirt.
later, we went to walmart in further search of camouflage. we were in the hunting supplies section and brian was checking the price of thermal underwear when i wandered off (i told him to leash me, but would he listen?). i found myself examing an opened spray bottle that said "acorn masking scent". remembering my Body Shoppe etiquette, i offered my left wrist to be sprayed. my right hand was excited by my left wrist's offer and enthusiastically sprayed the scent all down my left arm. i didn't bother to smell myself and walked off to find brian. as he stood up from his thermal underwear price checking crouch i (remembering my Body Shoppe etiquette) shoved my left wrist in his face. he instinctively sniffed and then instictively wrestched as the full force of the oder attempted an Anschluss with his nostrils. he made a sound like a manatee beneath the propellor of a glass bottomed boat, so i was curious to find out what he was raving about. i lifted my wrist to my own nose and bile instantly sprang into my throat. apparently walmart sells nerve gas.
sam walton is a fucking pussy, so of course there was no lava soap in the bathroom. try as i might, the stench would not leave my flesh. it lingered there until i could get home and kick its ass with my SOAP FROM HELL.
in other news, i hear CK got MU the ON. rock on, it is fun to walk.
we could see up her skirt.
the moment was remarkable. it was as if reality had bent itself downward as brian nudged me, then suddenly sprang back into place as i looked upward. the force of this movement was enough to fling the two of us into a universe actually dominated by the rules of the Teen Sex Comedy. as we walked passed viewing distance and into the portion of the mall that's vaguely occupied by a starbucks the enormity of what had just happened hit me.
when does a cheerleader ever actually where her uniform in public? the only places i've ever actually seen girls in cheerleading uniforms are football games and porn sites. high school football season is over, so she couldn't have come straight from a game. she could not have been a porn star, because her hair was in a pony tail. it's required for a porn star to wear her hair in pig tails if she is in a cheerleading uniform. this is done to distract the porn viewer from noticing that the "girl" is actually a hagged out forty year old who stinks of cigars. our attention is meant to drift from pig tail to pig tail to cheerleading skirt in a vicious triangle of distraction.
what's that you say? maybe she wore the uniform out of a sense of irony? no, no, no. any girl whose school spirit is strong enough to dictate that the color of her undershorts match the color of her skirt could not have been ironic. irony can't explain why she was in the mall wearing that uniform at that time in that place. in fact, nothing can. there is no explanation for all of those factors coming together. ...unless...unless it was god.
god wanted me to look up that cheerleader's skirt.
later, we went to walmart in further search of camouflage. we were in the hunting supplies section and brian was checking the price of thermal underwear when i wandered off (i told him to leash me, but would he listen?). i found myself examing an opened spray bottle that said "acorn masking scent". remembering my Body Shoppe etiquette, i offered my left wrist to be sprayed. my right hand was excited by my left wrist's offer and enthusiastically sprayed the scent all down my left arm. i didn't bother to smell myself and walked off to find brian. as he stood up from his thermal underwear price checking crouch i (remembering my Body Shoppe etiquette) shoved my left wrist in his face. he instinctively sniffed and then instictively wrestched as the full force of the oder attempted an Anschluss with his nostrils. he made a sound like a manatee beneath the propellor of a glass bottomed boat, so i was curious to find out what he was raving about. i lifted my wrist to my own nose and bile instantly sprang into my throat. apparently walmart sells nerve gas.
sam walton is a fucking pussy, so of course there was no lava soap in the bathroom. try as i might, the stench would not leave my flesh. it lingered there until i could get home and kick its ass with my SOAP FROM HELL.
in other news, i hear CK got MU the ON. rock on, it is fun to walk.