However, in that respect, a trip to Walmart for me is like dropping a crackhead off on the corner on a Friday night, shoving a crisp $100 bill in his hand, and saying, "Now Johnny, be a good boy, and go play with your little friends. Just try not to hit the pipe tonight, sweetie." It just ain't happening.
Plus, anybody who follows my blog or my Facebook status updates knows I make just as much, if not more, fun of myself as I do other people. So if you don't like it, feel free to block me.
Speaking of crack, this guy I saw in Walmart beats anything you will see on PeopleofWalmart.com; my radar first went off as my friend Julie and I rounded the corner in the Pharmacy section where they have the really crappy tasting, berry flavored 5 Hour Energy 6 packs. (You would think they would have a good flavor like orange in the multi-packs, but noooooo, they know we poor bastards will drink the nasty ones because they are cheaper.)
I didn't get a full glimpse of the guy until after we exited the card aisle, where yes they were already putting up the Valentine's crap on January 3. Jesus, Walmart, you skipped right over Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. You racist pigs. I know there is some kind of candy you could attach to the Civil Rights Movement if you just put your little capitalist minds to it. But I digest.
When I finally got a load of this guy in all his full asscrackitude glory, I knew I had to get a pic. I stalked him up and down the aisles like a snow leopard, now blending in, now preparing for the kill. Finally, with his back turned in the checkout lane, I sprang into action with my Android phone and snagged a pic of his big, pasty white butt cheeks hanging over his belted jeans that were cinched about three feet too low. Success!
Or so I thought. By the time I realized the pic had not turned out, there were already two more shoppers in line behind him, thus, ruining the trophy shot. Have no fear loyal followers, as long as Walmart in Elizabeth City remains open, I pledge to hunt him down again.
So why did we go there for 5 Hour Energy shots in the first place? Because like any other red blooded, holiday over eating, belly bulging Americans in January, we decided to hit the gym.
Which brings me to my introductions of our next two participants in today's post: Rudy and Judy. (I have no idea what their real names are, but I already rhymed them in my head, so Rudy and Judy it is.)
Rudy was a thin little fellow and quite short with a nicely developed beard. He didn't really need to lose any weight. I suspect he was very new to the gym, which his attire hinted at. He had on work boots, blue jeans, and a plaid quilted shirt. Vigorously working his elliptical machine, he looked like the love child resulting from the gay union of the Brawny paper towel lumber jack and the Travelocity gnome.
Now on to Judy. Judy, Judy, Judy. I might have ignored Judy but for the fact that, prior to going to the gym, I had a specific request to capture a wild spandexer in its natural habitat, and Judy provided just such an opportunity. Have you ever left a can of biscuits out of the refrigerator by accident, causing them to get warm? Then you peel the outside label off, and the can doesn't open. You then have to insert the tip of a spoon into the seam of the cardboard wrapping the biscuit can and press, resulting in a loud pop and biscuit dough explosion at the seams. Judy.
Rudy and Judy, I do not call you out because you are at the gym trying to get yourselves in better shape. I applaud you for it. Hell, that's why I was there too. All I am saying is can you just maybe try to dress a little more normally, say in an oversized T-shirt and sweat pants, like the rest of us fat, sweaty bastards in there.
In the end, I guess all I'm trying to convey today are three simple truths that we all already know:
- Crack kills.
- Spandex should be outlawed. (Though I am curious to see how those new, much advertised Pajama Jeans work out.)
- Save the logging apparel for Weyerhauser.