Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Wal-Martiquette Part II

This post is a continuation of a the immediatley preceding post, Wal-Martiquette.
It is a list of observations, notes, and suggestions regarding my recent trip to Wal-Mart.
6. Your piercingly loud, rude, uncontrollable, snot-nosed, room-temperature IQ'd, mouth-breathing hell-spawn are NOT cute.

Go ahead and beat the living hell out of them, right there in the store.
Discipline is good for them.
It will make you feel better, it will certainly make me feel better, and I swear I will tell nary a soul.

I may even help you, if you wish.

7. Dixie Chicks on the display TV's?
Hey Wal-Mart, this is a red state; take that sh*t to Taxachusetts and Cuba, where it belongs.

8. You are not the only one in the store.

If someone is standing quietly and patiently behind you while you try to decide which kind of crappy artificial fruit punch to buy, that is actually secret code for


Wal-Mart may even have a decoder ring for you to use if you forget what this means.

9. Face piercings are gay.
They're not a fashion statement, not cute, not daring, not bold, not "cutting-edge", nor individualistic; just gay.

10. If you plow someone's 4 year old kid into a red pile of goo with your fast and furiously retarded little jap car, because you think the speed limit in the parking lot is 45 miles an hour, the parents may kill you on the spot, before you can get a fair trial.

I, invariably, will help them.
Gleefully, I might add.

11. The new Wal-Mart doesn't sell firearms. They are paring down stores that sell guns to one store per district (which is Napoleon 'round these parts). I am writing to them, and may not shop there any more. They do sell gun "stuff" and ammo, however. Including handgun ammo.
And technically, they still sell firearms.
I'm on the fence.

12. A post-Wal-Mart shopping observation -
To the Charlie Manson look-alike and his family at the Farm and Fleet equivalent:

Get a job you dirty hippie.
If you took a bath and shaved, and bought a clean 3 dollar shirt at Goodwill, maybe you could get a job, and then you wouldn't have to send forth your grubby progeny to try to pilfer merchandise while your wife, Squeaky, creates a distraction by making a production of buying some hex-nuts for a grand total of SIXTY-SEVEN CENTS!

And don't stare at me either ya freakin' psycho.
You only scare me if you vote, f**ktard.

If you ever read my website, you'd look the other way - quickly.
Don't make me sic a bunch of conservative bloggers on you.
Now I certainly expect to see more civilized behavior next time I go Wal-Mart (IF I go there again).

Such stress.
I need a beer.