lafayetteproulx

So it's kind of a slow Saturday at work, I take a post-it note and start making a shopping list, all of the essentials that I need in the near future. I'm writing away when a co-worker walks by, looks over my shoulder, and kind of clears his throat to get my attention.
He points at my shopping list, and asks, "Why?"
I guess it's kind of odd to be making a shopping list when the first thing on the list is 200 rounds of ammunition. What can I say? It's been a while since I've been to the range, I need to practice.

I do like how I went from the ammunition to the face scrub. Unintentionally hilarious.

Also finding those brown shoes is going to be a bitch, where am I going to find decent size 13 shoes? I've always hated buying shoes. I look like a freakin' clown. I even have a friend who calls me clownshoe, which I have to admit is a little bit funny. But yes, I do hate my feet.