Monday, April 5, 2010
Captian Jackass!!!!
Hubby and I went to Walmart yesterday afternoon to pick up a few things forgotten from the trip on Saturday with our nephew. I'll do a little aside rant here: if going out and/or doing things at home is SOOOOOO WRRROOONNNGGG to do on Easter Sunday then why oh why are stores open? I washed all our laundry Saturday night and hung it on the line to dry yesterday morning (my little attempt at saving electricity and being green)- to which every church person driving by gave us dirty looks, hell some even dared to drive by twice- just so as I felt doubly insulted!
GET OVER IT PEOPLE! Your just lucky I wasn't naked under my bathrobe, having it untied and wide open- letting everyone see what I was born with in all it's glory!!! I fully comprehend that Easter is indeed a major religious holiday- but it isn't mine! I don't go to church unless it's a funeral or a wedding- and I get that there's more to Easter then little kids flying high as kites on sugar induced comas! Preach religion if you will- use words only if you must!!! I might add- we didn't get a single dirty look from anyone at Mongolian Bar-B-Que whilst eating- must be you can go out to eat on Easter Sunday- just not do any house chores...
To rewind to the opening line... We went to Walmart, bought some groceries, bought some common household items, and mostly people watched. Little aside here on general public appearance- if you weight over three hundred fifty pounds and have confidence in your looks- good for you! But that doesn't mean you can wear less clothing then a "Baywatch" cast member when purchasing tomatoes in the produce section! Boy did I wish I hadn't turn to look for something when I did. Post checking out- trying to have a lovely conversation with the stern faced- wish-I-wasn't-here check out girl- Hubby pointed out Captain Jackass standing next to the greeter at the door. The greeter himself looked as though he could pass for Buzz Lightyear the Senior edition, but I digress... Join me as I wind up the rant machine in an "oh-so-creative" fashion today... (Imagine those squiggly lines used for flashbacks in movies...)
There- at the doors, just beyond the security scanners he stood. A ball cap, that's seen at least three summers of sweaty yard work and hasn't even come close to a hose, shoved down over a Bo Seefus meets trailer park manager mullet. He's wearing "Oakley" sunglasses that any seventies porn star would be proud of that probably set him back a solid $5 at the local fair last year. Speaking of adult entertainment star-esque- I can only describe his facial hair as smear 'o roadkill. Now- based on his appearence from the neck up- he deserves a bit of chiding on the good 'ol blogger here, but his attire spawned the most brutal out loud rant I think I've ever commited in a public place- a rant that had Hubby smiling and chuckling to himself.
This guy was standing there, strangler jeans cutting off any and all circulation I'm sure of it, preening with the pride of an all-star quarterback wearing a football jersey. And- ladies and gentlemen- this was no ordinary football jersey. It was gleaming, pristine white- emblazoned across the area underneath the collar in safety orange colored thread, it said Beavers. Now- underneath that- in the same size as a typical number on a football jersey- was the number 8. Equally as bright as the lettering. Take a moment- process this... 8 Beavers. I'll admit- I was too hung up on his "Mr. Football" pose and the gross faux-pas of his attire choice to catch it, but Hubby did. The credit goes to Hubby on this one with his statement of "That's a really bold statement of a shirt, isn't it?" Then I caught it. I swear you could hear the gears grinding and the pistons firing up as my internal rant machine went from idle (my comments on how Easter must mean Mingers of the world unite and overtake Walmart!) into full blown overdrive!
On the way past this guy and all the way across the parking lot, I was ranting. Full out, full tilt, as decently loud as I could, gaining stares from random people in the lot, I insulted this pathetic bastard! How I was sorry but I'm sure the only Beaver this sonofabitch has EVER eaten was one he hit with his truck! Which by no doubt is a shitty little S-10 Chevy that is held together by a hope, a prayer, bubblegum, and chickenwire. And is no doubt adorned with Jeff Gordon Nascar stickers and has a pair of chrome Truck Nuts dangling from the scrap steel hitch on the back. The truck nuts alone having more monetary value then the entire vehicle they were attached to! And how it was all compensating for his having a dick smaller then my pinkie finger!!!
I apologize to everyone who may have heard the rant in the parking lot (none of which probably read this blog) but it still makes me feel a little better apologizing for it. I honestly wanted to go back into the store and take a picture of the sonofabitch, but I didn't. Hubby seemed to frown on that idea a might. Him knowing full well that my rant would have only insued in a face to face war of girl using big words that the dumbass would need a dictionary to understand. Thus causing a scene in the middle of Walmart on Easter Sunday.
So there... I did something good for all those churchy types and not only did I not hang my under-grunders on the clothesline, but I didn't face to face insult the stupid bastard on his arrogance and clearly poor choice of fashion sense. If anyone should be called on the proverbial carpet on their actions on Easter Sunday it would be this guy for wearing an "8 Beavers" jersey in public and not me for hanging my laundry on the line.
Aaaaahhhhh- I feel better now...
Captian Jackass!!!!
Hubby and I went to Walmart yesterday afternoon to pick up a few things forgotten from the trip on Saturday with our nephew. I'll do a little aside rant here: if going out and/or doing things at home is SOOOOOO WRRROOONNNGGG to do on Easter Sunday then why oh why are stores open? I washed all our laundry Saturday night and hung it on the line to dry yesterday morning (my little attempt at saving electricity and being green)- to which every church person driving by gave us dirty looks, hell some even dared to drive by twice- just so as I felt doubly insulted!
GET OVER IT PEOPLE! Your just lucky I wasn't naked under my bathrobe, having it untied and wide open- letting everyone see what I was born with in all it's glory!!! I fully comprehend that Easter is indeed a major religious holiday- but it isn't mine! I don't go to church unless it's a funeral or a wedding- and I get that there's more to Easter then little kids flying high as kites on sugar induced comas! Preach religion if you will- use words only if you must!!! I might add- we didn't get a single dirty look from anyone at Mongolian Bar-B-Que whilst eating- must be you can go out to eat on Easter Sunday- just not do any house chores...
To rewind to the opening line... We went to Walmart, bought some groceries, bought some common household items, and mostly people watched. Little aside here on general public appearance- if you weight over three hundred fifty pounds and have confidence in your looks- good for you! But that doesn't mean you can wear less clothing then a "Baywatch" cast member when purchasing tomatoes in the produce section! Boy did I wish I hadn't turn to look for something when I did. Post checking out- trying to have a lovely conversation with the stern faced- wish-I-wasn't-here check out girl- Hubby pointed out Captain Jackass standing next to the greeter at the door. The greeter himself looked as though he could pass for Buzz Lightyear the Senior edition, but I digress... Join me as I wind up the rant machine in an "oh-so-creative" fashion today... (Imagine those squiggly lines used for flashbacks in movies...)
There- at the doors, just beyond the security scanners he stood. A ball cap, that's seen at least three summers of sweaty yard work and hasn't even come close to a hose, shoved down over a Bo Seefus meets trailer park manager mullet. He's wearing "Oakley" sunglasses that any seventies porn star would be proud of that probably set him back a solid $5 at the local fair last year. Speaking of adult entertainment star-esque- I can only describe his facial hair as smear 'o roadkill. Now- based on his appearence from the neck up- he deserves a bit of chiding on the good 'ol blogger here, but his attire spawned the most brutal out loud rant I think I've ever commited in a public place- a rant that had Hubby smiling and chuckling to himself.
This guy was standing there, strangler jeans cutting off any and all circulation I'm sure of it, preening with the pride of an all-star quarterback wearing a football jersey. And- ladies and gentlemen- this was no ordinary football jersey. It was gleaming, pristine white- emblazoned across the area underneath the collar in safety orange colored thread, it said Beavers. Now- underneath that- in the same size as a typical number on a football jersey- was the number 8. Equally as bright as the lettering. Take a moment- process this... 8 Beavers. I'll admit- I was too hung up on his "Mr. Football" pose and the gross faux-pas of his attire choice to catch it, but Hubby did. The credit goes to Hubby on this one with his statement of "That's a really bold statement of a shirt, isn't it?" Then I caught it. I swear you could hear the gears grinding and the pistons firing up as my internal rant machine went from idle (my comments on how Easter must mean Mingers of the world unite and overtake Walmart!) into full blown overdrive!
On the way past this guy and all the way across the parking lot, I was ranting. Full out, full tilt, as decently loud as I could, gaining stares from random people in the lot, I insulted this pathetic bastard! How I was sorry but I'm sure the only Beaver this sonofabitch has EVER eaten was one he hit with his truck! Which by no doubt is a shitty little S-10 Chevy that is held together by a hope, a prayer, bubblegum, and chickenwire. And is no doubt adorned with Jeff Gordon Nascar stickers and has a pair of chrome Truck Nuts dangling from the scrap steel hitch on the back. The truck nuts alone having more monetary value then the entire vehicle they were attached to! And how it was all compensating for his having a dick smaller then my pinkie finger!!!
I apologize to everyone who may have heard the rant in the parking lot (none of which probably read this blog) but it still makes me feel a little better apologizing for it. I honestly wanted to go back into the store and take a picture of the sonofabitch, but I didn't. Hubby seemed to frown on that idea a might. Him knowing full well that my rant would have only insued in a face to face war of girl using big words that the dumbass would need a dictionary to understand. Thus causing a scene in the middle of Walmart on Easter Sunday.
So there... I did something good for all those churchy types and not only did I not hang my under-grunders on the clothesline, but I didn't face to face insult the stupid bastard on his arrogance and clearly poor choice of fashion sense. If anyone should be called on the proverbial carpet on their actions on Easter Sunday it would be this guy for wearing an "8 Beavers" jersey in public and not me for hanging my laundry on the line.
Aaaaahhhhh- I feel better now...