Mr. McSlore and I don't often patronize The Walmart. I lack the fortitude to shed blood for close parking spaces and the sales girls look down on me because I don't show any flesh, wear pjs in the dog food aisle or weigh enough to set off seismic alarms. But if seeing strippers passed out in shopping carts is a regular occurence, I'm willing to change my ways.
4 comments:
That's the beauty of this crazy little machine the kids are using nowadays. You don't even have to leave your house to enjoy the the wonderment that is www.peopleofwalmart.com
You're right, as usual. I will STILL refuse to go there.
Laughing in bed like a loon... I like the skunk hair, it's the icing on the toilet cake.
Why wouldn't he have just left her in the car?
He didn't want her puking on his fine velour Chevy Cavalier interior.
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