cheapbag214s |
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Joined: 27 Jun 2013 |
Posts: 20570 |
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Location: England |
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choosier moms choose jeffy,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]
The tricky thing about weekends is trying to fill empty structureless time with activities that won't leave me saying,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], "my time would have been better spent whacking my testicles repeatedly with a ball peen hammer."
It would be nice having time to relax if I actually knew how to relax. When I actually have a free weekend, most of my energy is spent scurrying to find something to keep me from taking up needlepoint to avoid boredom. Today,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I decided it was time to shop.
Since I ruined a bunch of clothes in my washing machine a while back, I needed to find replacements. I had a dwindling supply of shirts, no decent shorts and no khaki pants. My choices were a) pretend it's Winter and wear sweaters and pants all the time, b) go naked or c) hit up some stores. Although I would qualify for Bonus Emo Points by donning sweaters, and nudity sounded,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], um, freeing,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I went with the latter.
Since I'm a cheap bastard, my first stop was the Thrift Store Outlet. Everything is thirty percent off on Saturdays so my already cheap finds would be marked down further. Although they had no shorts, I did pick up two t-shirts, a polo shirt and a sweater for less than five dollars. It's this sort of thing that ruins me for retail.
I absolutely needed some shorts. My only choice was to go to the mall,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych].
As soon as I stepped foot in the great Arden Faire Edifice Of Capitalism, I realized how much I hate the mall. First of all,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I hate overly friendly salespeople. You aren't my buddy,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and I'm not going to be yours just because you happened to chirp to me that these boss Volcom pants are on sale, okay Ass Clown? Secondly, I don't need fifty billion walking reminders of exactly how unhip I am. I swear, it's like high school with a Hot Dog On A Stick.
Somehow, I managed to find a pair of reasonably attractive, reasonably affordable shorts at Macy's. Shockingly enough, their sales staff wasn't entirely obnoxious. In fact,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], the woman that rang me up was a foxy,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], foxy lady. What's more, upon noticing my Weezer shirt, she said, "Weezer . . . that last album . . . it's not so good. I still love them though."
I said, "can I violate you now?"
Actually,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I said,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], "yeah,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], it's a huge disappointment," paid, and scurried off in fear because, nine times out of ten, pretty girls scare the Don Knotts right out of me. I have no spine.
When I got home,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I couldn't think of much to do. I was supposed to go to a show with Darci,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], the girl who invited me to Friday night's party, but she never called. I passed out sitting up in my bed sometime around eleven.
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