Hell*Mart, Hoisery, and Dogs

Last night as I was washing my jet black nylons I noticed several gigantic runs in them, runs being snags, tears, rips, whatever you please. The fact remained that there were tons of HOLES! in my nylons that I needed for today! Today, being Dress Up Thursday and COLD outside [as in biting wind that chills you past your bones, into whatever soul you may have, and then some], I considered wearing dress pants, but yesterday was Manwear Wednesday, and I wore dress pants there, so I figured I'd wear a dress. After much persuasion and a bit of whine, I finally convinced my mom to let me go to the store. She was coming with me. Of course. By that time it was 9:30 p.m., much too late for me to be happy about getting up in the morning, because I missed my chance for 10 hours of sleep. Luckily, the roads were clear enough for me to not kill ourselves, and we made great time. Unluckily, the only store still open that had decent [considering] hoisery was Wal*Mart. I suppose I should describe for you my feelings about Wal*Mart.

Words cannot entirely express for you my feelings about Wal*mart. I feel a poem would better do my thoughts justice.

Wal*Mart, you started out right.
But Wal*Mart, you died of fright
Of Chinese cheap stuff and
You took flight.
I don't blame you,
In fact they maimed you.
You make me feel the need to strip
And skinny dip
In a swimming pool of straight leeches.

Wal*Mart, at 10:30 p.m. you're scary,
but not as much as your checker named Lary.
I walked down your aisles, for time and a half,
And found millions of things I wanted to trash.

Your mascara is runny, your jokes aren't funny,
You have limited Ben & Jerry's,
You make me scream UNCLE!!!!

On the way home from school today [NOT on the bus], I had one of the most peculiar conversations I have ever been part of. First it started about how amazing the film edition of The Great Gatsby is, as we've been viewing it in English. Next, it moved into ungly dogs, and so forth from there. Really it was centered about how runny, drippy, and nasty dogs are. Gross! I could never own a big dog. Small dog with no vocal chords...maybe. Big sloppy dog? I don't think so. Anywho, seeing as it's finals week and my teachers have a personal vendetta against my sanity and me, I'm out to watch Superstars of Dance, and THEN write my history notes for tomorrow. :D I'm a good student. I'm just psychologically in need of a break from history. Cheers!