April 19, 2003
As soon as the boys manage to splash all the water out of the bathtub, I'm taking them to the Super Wal-Mart. I told them that they had $100 to spend, on whatever they wanted. I intend to spend $100 on myself, even if I don't need the shit I buy.
Money means nothing to me. After you watch your father and your best friend die miserable deaths and find yourself diagnosed with the same disease, a lot of your perspective changes. I can't take the money with me if I die, and I don't have a family to worry about anymore. I already have Quinton and Samantha set up pretty well in my will, and I pay a LOT into what is supposed to be Quinton's "College Fund" every month.
That would be Child Support. I have no idea where that money goes.
I resent paying it only because I resent my ex-wife for being a bloodless cunt about the divorce. It didn't have to be that way. She made that choice. I will never understand, nor will I ever forgive her for that. She knew how to hurt me, and she pushed every button. I really don't know why.
Whatever. I'm going to blow some loot, spend some change, toss some cash, shoot my wad and make Wal-Mart stock go up. What I hope for in life now is to have the last check I write bounce as I take my last breath. (I call that Breaking Even.)
I earned it. I'm going to blow it like a drunken sailor.
Partial shopping list. Please print and take with you to the store:
1. Windex (not generic, I like the real deal)
2. Roll of paper towels, preferably Bounty but house brand will do.
Thanks so much! (Still patiently waiting for these items since August 2002.)
You can buy some postage while you're there, too.
Send me pretty pictures and stuff. The hell with that. Buy your sorry cracker ass a ticket and come to San Diego. Bring Quinton. We'll have fun.
I recently read an article in Forbes (I think) that lays the blame for low inflation rates on Wal-Mart and its insistence that it compete by offering the lowest possible prices.
So what if the shit I buy at the Peoria Wal-Mart is exactly the same shit that someone can buy at a Florida Wal-Mart or a New York Wal-Mart. If I want to pay extra for something unique, I'll go to some hyper-expensive speciality store.
It's still the only place in town where I can be sure to find Charmin with Aloe.
Your divorce is over. Stop carrying the "bloodless cunt" with you for the rest of your sorry, cracker-ass life. The words: "bitter divorce" are redundant! Every fucking divorce is bitter. As happy and as joyous as marriage is, divorce is SUPPOSED to be just as painful and as full of truly hideous consequences. Otherwise, most marriages wouldn't last longer than the honeymoon!
Reminds me of the old joke: Why is a divorce always more expensive for the man than it is for the women? Because it's WORTH IT! hahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahaaaa
(Is he laughing? Can someone tell me if Acidman thought that was funny?)
Will you take me shopping????? I'm really good at spending money!!
Uhhh, BJK, he's laughing, but he's also sharpening an axe...
She was as mean as she could be to you because she blamed you for not living up to her expectations.
Charmin with aloe. Freaking awesome. It's amazing what constitutes a luxury item once you hit middle age.
I agree, KC. Middle age is a bitch.
I was watching a commercial for a nostalgia music CD. Its' pitch was "Remember way back when CDs were new? When we all rocked to the music of Duran Duran and Cindy Lauper?"
There hasn't been any good music since the 1970s. I blame MTV. Would Janis Joplin be a star today? Not on your life. Mick Jagger is still a star, but he is too damn butt ugly to get any airplay these days.
Charmin with Aloe is a gift from God. My home is filled with generic products and I drive only used cars. But I will pay top dollar for comfortable toilet paper. I mean, some things are worth the extra money.
I mean, the guy who thought of putting aloe in toilet paper is a f*cking genius. You know what else is ingenious? Ragu spaghetti sauce with a half pound of meat. Yes, it is more expensive, but I don't have to stand over a friggin' stove and brown hamburger. I also don't have to thaw a pound of hamburger to make spaghetti, either. I can make spaghetti on a friggin' WHIM. Life is gooooood.
And better yet: Wal-Mart had a special on the stuff last week! You can bet your ass I stocked up!
Another genius: The guy who designed shopping carts that have a built in cup holder. Combine that with a soda fountain near the entrance, and you have a grocery store with a built-in money maker. I mean, what's the markup on a large fountain soda, anyway? 1,000 percent?
The REAL genius was the guy who installed ATM machines in bars.
Isn't 'ATM machine' redundant? It's like saying 'automatic teller machine machine'.
We are as God made us, and often a great deal worse.
That which does not kill us makes us stranger.