I hate Wal-mart.
Regardless, I still find myself going there often based on the sole fact of location, location, location. Granted, that is a sole fact stated three times but it is a sole fact nonetheless.
I feel as if I am betraying Target, which is my newfound paramour. I like to pronounce it Tar-zhay because A) it makes her (yes, I call Target a 'her', I'm sexist) sound more sophisticated which makes me giggle and B) I once heard this yuppified broad do so and I cannot get the nasal tone of her voice out of my memory. Yes, the foolish bitch was serious, ala, "Well, dear, I must sally forth to Tar-zhay in search for meaningless baubles to fulfill my shallow existence," or something similar.
I am weak.
I cheat on my virginial, neoteric lover regularly and it blackens my soul with guilt and remorse; deadening my sense of well-being.
Fuck you, Samuel Moore Walton, oh fuck you.
Regardless, I still find myself going there often based on the sole fact of location, location, location. Granted, that is a sole fact stated three times but it is a sole fact nonetheless.
I feel as if I am betraying Target, which is my newfound paramour. I like to pronounce it Tar-zhay because A) it makes her (yes, I call Target a 'her', I'm sexist) sound more sophisticated which makes me giggle and B) I once heard this yuppified broad do so and I cannot get the nasal tone of her voice out of my memory. Yes, the foolish bitch was serious, ala, "Well, dear, I must sally forth to Tar-zhay in search for meaningless baubles to fulfill my shallow existence," or something similar.
I am weak.
I cheat on my virginial, neoteric lover regularly and it blackens my soul with guilt and remorse; deadening my sense of well-being.
Fuck you, Samuel Moore Walton, oh fuck you.
and with that...i leave you alone to revisit your lunch.