She walks, she talks, she crawls on her belly like a reptile. She's almost human. It's.....THE OPTO-MOM!!!



Showing posts with label wal-mart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wal-mart. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Shopping With Charles Manson

I went shopping the other day to get a few household items and an Easter dress for my daughter. (That’s ONE, 1, UNO dress...got it?)

So, of course, I ended up with 3 dresses for her - they were on sale - DON’T judge me!
While I was at JCPenney‘s, I decided that I needed some new undies. I’m just minding my own bidness in the underbritches section, when I saw this.

Omigawd! Is anyone’s ass actually that small? How do you even take a poop when your backside is not much larger than a friggin’ peanut? Here is another picture for some perspective.

That’s a quarter beside the teeny tiny drawers. If we stay with this analogy, my undies could pay down the national deficit.

Even though I felt like a fatass after seeing these miniscule ass covers, I picked out some new undergarments (also on sale - woooohoooo for me!) and headed to The Wal-Mart for my household items.

After my last trip to The Wal-Mart (click here to read about the cashier and her coochie), I know you’re probably surprised that I would go back.

Alas, I am known in this land as BraveLiver (BraveHeart was already taken…), so I stoically entered the store of doom and began my shopping. They were out of my deodorant (assholes), so I moseyed on over to the shoe section to find Miss Smarty Pants some Easter shoes.

[Side note: I was going to buy her some shoes at Penney’s, but they were all, like $50, and her feet grow about eleventy inches a week, so I’m being a cheapskate on these shoes she will only wear once a week for about an hour. Also, she is only 9 years old, but wears a size 10 in ladies shoes, and all of the shoes in that size at Penney’s looked like stripper shoes.]

[Side note #2: Good Lord, does anyone know how to make my kid’s foot stop growing?!?!?  Or does anyone know when Shaquille O‘Neal is having a garage sale?  And does he have a penchant for sparkly open-toe sandals and flip-flops?  Probably NOT???  Well, shit!]

Apparently, Wal-Mart has hired Charles Manson to organize their shoe section.

This is helter skelter right here people!
Speaking of Charley-Boy, I would like to take this opportunity to thank him for his recent thoughts on global warming. After his expert commentary, I am SOLD!

It sure is nice of those prison officials to let Mr. Helter Skelter out to do hands-on research on global warming. I didn't even know he was a scientist!  Now, let’s let him work on the deficit.  I’ll donate my underwear……

Thursday, March 10, 2011

The Cashier At Wal-Mart Tells Me About Her Coochie

Oh, how I love going to The Wal-Mart, even though it’s a prime location to catch the swine flu and other communicable diseases. Sometimes I go in there and actually touch a cesspool of germs shopping cart without wearing a hazmat suit.


I’m a risk-taker, people. A rebel. I walk on the wild side. I’m kinda like Charlie Sheen with my Adonis blood. Winning!
I was at our local Wally-World Friday night, and had made it through my shopping without contracting the Ebola virus, so I was pretty pumped. Then I got to the cashier…

[Bom bom BOMMMMM]


That was supposed to be an ominous soundbite there. Did ya get that?  I considered using the theme from Jaws, but I didn't know how to spell that music.


Anyway, the cashier (Mesha) was a young lady, probably in her early 20’s.


As she was ringing up my purchases, she began chatting with me. She told me she really wanted to go out with her friend after work, but her boyfriend was coming to pick her up. I was nodding politely and sympathetically.


I should totally be a therapist, or something, and get paid for this shit, because people are always telling me their personal business.


Pay attention now…this is where it gets really good.


Me: Maybe you can just text your boyfriend and tell him you’ll see him tomorrow.

Mesha: I don’t really want to see him tomorrow either.

Me (sensing drama): Really? Are you mad at him?

Mesha: Yeah, he gonna want to have sex, and I don’t want to.

Me: …………oh.

Mesha: Yeah, I done tole him I was on my period last week, so I can’t use that excuse this week, too.

Me: ………uhhh, no, I guess that wouldn’t work this week.

Mesha: Yesterday I tole him I had some weird shit coming out my coochie, so he backed off.

Me: ……… {trying to fake a polite smile, but probably just looking constipated} …….


At this point, I’m thinking that if she had weird coochie stuff yesterday, then the boyfriend probably isn’t going to want to get near said coochie today, right? Ah, contraire…. Casanova had other plans. Read on!


Mesha: He said we can just do it in the butt tonight.

Me: …… {mouth hanging open, not even trying to look polite now} …..

Mesha: Last time we did that, I tole him it hurt, ‘cuz his dick was too big to fit in my bootyhole.

Me: ….{OmigodOmigodWhyIsSheTellingMeThis?}

Mesha: Then he tole me I was boring! While we was still doing it! Can you believe he said that?

Me: {finding my voice} Honey, you are the least boring person I’ve met in a while.

Mesha: So I just been doing it with my friend, and girl, he appreciates every second of what I got.

Me: Awwww, that’s…ummm…sweet.

Mesha: Yeah, but about my boyfriend, I think I’m gonna dump that zero. It’s just hard because he’s got a nice car.

Me: Well, you have to go with the person you like best, and not the car you like best.

Mesha: Hey, that makes sense. Damn, you smart!

Me: Oh, ummmm, thanks and good luck with…like…all of that…you know…stuff.


So I left feeling brilliant and just a little dirty after that whole conversation WITH A COMPLETE STRANGER!


You can’t get herpes from talking about sex with a Wal-Mart cashier, can you?  I shoulda bought more hand sanitizer....and Lysol...and Valtrex.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Math Lesson for Dummies

Sometimes the vast stupidity of people just amazes me!  A few weeks ago, I was shopping for school clothes for Miss Smarty Pants.  I was in a store in the mall that was having a 40% off sale that day, and I saw another customer picking out stuff with her 2 daughters.  They had close to $500 worth of stuff: backpacks, matching lunchboxes and water bottles, clothes, and shoes. 

The lady turned to me, because I guess I looked like an effin' pathetic dumbass, and she felt sorry and wanted to help me.  Here is how that conversation went:

Genius Lady:  Did you know that next weekend is tax-free weekend?  We drove over an hour to get here, thinking it was THIS weekend, and I just found out it's not.

Silly Little Ole Me:  No, I knew it was next weekend.

Genius Lady:  You know, I think I'm just going to come back next weekend to buy all this stuff because I want to take advantage of the tax free deal.  Did you realize that you would get all of this tax free if you just wait until next weekend to buy it?

Silly Little Ole Me:  Yes, but this 40% off sale ends today.

Genius lady:  But next weekend you won't have to pay any taxes on all this stuff!

Silly Little Ole Me:  {mumbling under my breath}  My Gawd, who hit her with the stupid stick?

Sounds like a great idea, right?  We won't have to pay those evil sales taxes if we just come NEXT weekend instead.  We will save sooooo much money!  (Is the sarcasm coming through here?  Someone really needs to invent a sarcasm font.) 

The problem is, the sale that day was 40% off, and the tax-free weekend would have saved her a whopping 8.25%.

I tried to explain this to her, but she was insistent that she would get a better deal by coming back the next weekend and paying full price for the items, but without tax.  She almost got a little rude with me, so I decided to just let Ms. Einstein wallow in her obtuseness.

Now, let's break this down, shall we?  For these purposes, we will assume her purchases would equal exactly $500.

If she bought that day and got the 40% off discount, she would get $200 off.
$500 - $200 = $300
Add in that crazy sales tax ($24.75) and the grand total is $324.75.

If she came back the next weekend, she would pay $500.  No tax added, but you're paying full price!

Hmmmmmm.  Now which is the better deal, $324.75 or $500? 

Have you ever seen a commercial for a stinkin' 8% off sale?  Would you drop what you're doing to hurry out to a store if they advertised that everything in the store was 8% off?  Whoopidee-friggin-do!  Hell, I'm not even going to put on my bra and venture out of the house for less than 30%.

Yet every year on tax free weekend, the stores and malls are absolutely crammed with people looking to save some "big" money.  I mean, it's worse than 6:00 a.m. on Black Friday at an Arkansas Wal-Mart.

I saw the lady putting her stuff back as I was at the register getting my 40% off of everything.  That should teach me to talk to strangers.  I had to go straight home and take a bath, just in case some of her ignorance rubbed off on me.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Things That Get on My Damn Nerves - Chapter 1

I would like to start a new weekly segment about things that get on my damn nerves. I struggled for days trying to think of a good name for this little column. I finally decided on, “Things That Get On My Damn Nerves.” So, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I present to you the first installment of my gratuitous weekly rant. Here we go!

1. Rude Wal-Mart poopers – Now this isn’t referring to all public poopers. I mean, sometimes you’ve just gotta go, right? I’m talking about going into the bathroom at Wal-Mart and finding that someone neglected to flush their poop. Is it really so hard to push that little handle down? Were you so proud of your bowel production that you had to leave it in there like a little prize for the next person? It’s not a museum piece; it’s human waste, for Pete’s sake! Flush it down! Maybe it’s a man-spy infiltrating the women’s bathrooms. That sounds like a guy thing. Anyway, I think I’ll start shopping at Target.

2. “We Needed the Rain” – This is mainly an “old people” phenomenon. We can experience torrential rain every day for 10 days straight with destruction and devastation to homes, property, humans, and pets. If you complain to anyone over 60 about the rain on the 11th day, the inevitable response will be, “Well, we needed the rain.” WHY? Why do we need the rain when my skin has been pruney for a week and I have Roseanne Roseannadanna hair? Just stop already with the whole needing-the-rain bit!

3. Heavy duty toy packages – Anyone who has a child knows exactly what I’m talking about here. Apparently, there is some sort of conspiracy among toy makers to drive parents and children insane with their toy packaging. I could break into Fort Knox with less effort than I spend getting a toy out of a package. Maybe the toy companies are in cahoots with tool makers, because every Christmas morning I find myself surrounded by screwdrivers, wrenches, wire cutters, drills, saws, and blow torches just to get all of the stinkin’ toys out of the packages. And there’s generally some type of injury from this process: scrapes, cuts, gouges, hair on fire, accidental amputation. (Perhaps the emergency rooms are in on the conspiracy too, hmmmm…) My husband or I usually end up bleeding on the carpet while our daughter is jumping up and down and salivating to get to that new toy that is taking 8 hours to get out of the package. ATTENTION TOY MAKERS: It’s not like you’re protecting a national treasure…..it’s just a Barbie doll!

4. Public cussers – I swear, some people are so uncouth! There’s nothing I hate worse than being in the store with my kid and having the lady next to us (who is, consequently, dressed in pajama pants and stained tee shirt with no bra) say, “Eighty-nine f*ckin’ cents for macaroni and cheese? That’s f*cking ridiculous!” Why can’t she just say, “Oh phooey! These darn prices certainly displease me!” This public cussing can commonly be experienced at any Wal-Mart in America, yet another reason why I plan to shop at Target from now on. Before you call me a hypocrite for calling out public cussers (because I do use a cuss word in the title of this blog), please note that I do not swear out in public, and especially not in front of children. I only swear on this blog…which is private…on the internet…accessible to anyone with a computer…uhhhh, never mind.

5. Over-indulgent parents – These are the parents that think their kids do no wrong. I do believe that we are supposed to be our kids’ biggest fans, but that doesn’t mean that we are supposed to think they are totally perfect at all times. You often hear the moms of serial killers claiming that he’s “really quite a good boy and never gave me problems when he lived in my basement.” The most recent example of this is the mother of the Barefoot Bandit. The Barefoot Bandit is the teenager who allegedly committed around 70 burglaries and thefts, including stealing an airplane and flying it to the Bahamas, where he crashed the plane. In an interview, the mother said, “If he stoled [yes, she said ‘stoled’] the airplane and can fly, I’m proud of him flying.” WHAT??? My mother was embarrassed to death one time when I wore white shoes after Labor Day. I can only imagine her horror if I stole (or stoled) and crashed a freakin’ plane! What the hell is wrong with people these days? Yes, be proud of your children, but if they are international felons, then perhaps you should temper that pride with a little bit of discipline. This sounds like one kid who needs a good old-fashioned ass whoopin’.

And that is what has gotten on my damn nerves this week. Let me know what you think!