Having the new found freedom of a vehicle at night, I took full advantage of it and went on a late-night shopping excursion. Casa de Heather was running dangerously low on toilet paper as Brother found my secret stash and raided it. If you ask me, that boy uses way too much toilet paper. A whole roll will last him a day, depending on what he's eaten. And I can't ask him to be the supplier of toilet paper for the house because he will go out and buy a case of the cheapest toilet paper on the planet. You know the type: half-ply, rough as sandpaper, and it really takes a bunch to get the job done. No, I am the designated toilet paper purchaser of the house. Brother just reimburses me.
So, I'm wandering around the store when I feel like someone is following me. I use my peripherals and my suspicions are confirmed. I pull into the juice isle, hoping to lose him, and pull off to the side. I spin around and he is practically on top of me. Unable to curse obscenities at him, I just cast the glare of death. Unapologetic, he reaches behind me and grabs a bag of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups. Tubby didn't realize that he almost got kneed in the junk for Peanut Butter Cups. Douchebag.
Moving along, I stop by the frozen food isle. It's amazing how many low-fat, low-calorie, low-flavor frozen dinners there are to chose from...and they all taste like ass. Right there in the middle of the Healthy Choice and the Lean Cuisine, were the Blue Bunny Ice Cream Sandwiches in the seasonal flavors. Way to go assholes. Somewhere in Kansas City, is a person who is binging on Egg Nog ice cream sandwiches when they actually meant to buy the Baked Chicken and Roasted Pepper dinner.
After purchasing toilet paper and a couple other necessities, I leave the store and right there in the handicap spot is the ugliest, most ghettofied car. Ever. A white, late model Ford Crown Vic with the biggest dubs I have ever seen. So much, the car was higher off the ground than most pick-up trucks. To make it even more hideous, the car was decked out with a shit ton of chrome. Even at that hour, people were stopping to look at it, but not out of admiration. I saw one black lady shake her head and say, "Hot Ghetto Mess". I'm sure she would have liked to have found the owner of the car and smacked them upside the head for making the entire African American population look bad.
I feel the same way whenever I watch Jerry Springer.
2 comments:
The toilet paper you speak of is called John Wayne Toilet Paper-Rough, Tough, Don't Take Shit Off Nobody.
Egg Nog ice cream sandwiches. Wow. Simply, wow.
While the whole hoopty thing is bad, I'm afraid that what their owners do for their race pales in comparison to what their caucasian and asian countertards do to theirs' with their hondas. With a hoopty, at least they're honest ("It makes it look cooler." "It makes the stereo able to reduce you to Pete Townshend's hearing in less than five minutes.") while the ricers wrap it up in the "This sticker is worth at least five extra horsepower."
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