Contact Solution

I love Wal-mart. I am not afraid to admit it. It's my one stop shopping heaven, from ass wipe to car batteries. Everything is cheaper, although you must be prepared to herd your way through slow moving people, smelly people, mentally challenged people, naked people, whatever.

My hairdryer recently bit the dust. So it was time for a new one. Where else would I go other than Wal-mart (no where of course)
So there I am, on Saturday, trudging through the crazy people looking for a new hairdryer, contact lense solution, chocolate to get fat on, and lost 100 dollar bills. Yes, let me repeat that.... I do where contacts - I am blind as a freaking bat.
Ok, ok, you weren't questioning the contact solution, but the 100 dollar bill, fine, whatever.

I'm standing in the aisle, pulled over to the left (because I am considerate like that, and if you don't do this please die you rat bastard) People are entering and exiting the electronics section, and I see someone drop a 100 dollar bill. I swoop over like a vulture and pick it up. I think for a split second if I should return it, or keep it. What's the probability of someone dropping a 100 bones. Pretty frickin' slim, I'll end up on TV and my poor face will be plastered all over the six o'clock news letting the public know that I am a dishonest person, just so some crappy newscastor can get promoted to co-anchor. Fuck that I think, I chase the supposed guy down and ask him if he's lost money.
He insist's he hasn't
I ask if he's completly sure.
He is.
My blood is pumping so fast I could feel my neck swelling and my face growing warm. I peed my pants a bit. Oh GAWD yes..... yes.
The money is neatly folded, the same way I had found it hiding in the death grip of my sweaty palms.
I went back to my parking spot to look for anyone else clawing at the dirty tiled floor looking for their lost baby formula money.
No one was.
This was good.
I retreated to the chocolate Easter isle, where I could get some privacy.
I was going to spend all my money on chocolate. No wait, I was going to buy some clothes, or shoes, or some more contact solution. Forget my bills, because now I am a rich woman and I have found some free money to throw into the wind and spend it on anything and everything that would rot my teeth, hair, my daughters child hood, or give me a yeast infection. I was going to spend it unwisely, just like I was 18 years old again.

My hubby came, I told him the story, and asked if he needed anything because it was my treat. I rubbed that 100 dollar bill like it was going to explode into an orgasm. It was smooth like silk. So smooth and papery, kind of like....... paper.
I looked into the palm of my hand, but I already knew the horrible truth. The ink wasn't perfect, and neither was my eyesight.

All I bought that day at Wal-mart was some contact solution and Easter chocolate, to drown my sorrows in.

Steady Hands??

If you skipped your cup of java, or lines of coke, your in for a real treat. So do it, play the maze.

Click picture to be connected.

Low Riding

Let me jump on the low jeans, low riders, lemme see that ass crack kinda low.
My personal preference is the low jeans, because of my boyish figure, high waisted clothes never fit me properly. But where do we draw the line. I guess seeing ass crack is just about the norm now.

Over a weekend sometime ago, I shared dinner with family. Of course jeans were probably the clothing of choice. But what surprised me was my cousin who (is quite religious) wore low rise jeans, where the underwear wasn't low rise. Now it wasn't regualr thong ass shots that I was seeing. It was more on the frontal aspect. Every time she stuck her hands in her pockets we all got a hefty glimpse of her blue granny pants just about right down to the crotch.

With the low rise pants, we now gotta purchase some low rise underwear. And yes, those under garments do indicate low-rise right on the packaging.

Of course there is always the, so-fucking-low-I-can't-wear-underwear. I have also been lucky enough to witness this as well. What's it like you ask? Well if you are daring enough to wear these fuckers, you should shave off all your pubic hair. Because that's what everyone will see. Yes I stared, no I didn't say anything, and no, I didn't take a picture, she was underage anyways.