Sunday, November 21, 2010

Yesterday, I shopped until my legs collapsed.  Crawling through the mall is no laughing matter.  People didn't even stop to help.  I couldn't even get a security gaurd to look at me sideways.  Note to self: don't wear pretty shoes when you plan on walking through a mall for four hours.

Shopping for clothes makes me realize how much I delude myself into thinking I am not fat.  Why am I so lumpy?  Somebody please take a human sized spatula to my flesh and spread it out evenly until there are no lumps.

Another reason I hate shopping: clothes hangers.  And not just clothes hangers, but how the employees at the stores are forced to shove 40 items on a rack meant for 20 so there is no wiggle room to move a friggin hanger so you can try to find your size and when you finally do, you go to pull out the hanger and it catches on the sleeves or strap of the other items jammed up against it thus thwarting the attempt you are making on removing said hanger.

I let a lot of clothes fall on to mall floor this weekend AND I DO NOT FEEL BAD ABOUT IT!  #1 I am not going to pick up clothes that fell because they were stuck to the hanger I was removing because IT TOOK ME FIVE MINUTES TO SIMPLY REMOVE THE DANG HANGER, I AM WINDED!  and #2, THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR JAMMING 40 ITEMS ON A 20 ITEM RACK RETAIL BITCHES! EARN YOUR  KEEP!

Thank you. Come again.

P.S. Dear The New Yorker, it's time for my acceptance to come, thank you. 

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