Some Things Just Aren’t That Easy
In the 21 years that I’ve been married, grocery shopping would have to be the number one task that repulses me the most, next to giving blow jobs, but then again getting paid for something doesn’t make it a task, now does it.
Today I went to BJ’s, (the store) if I go there, I only have to go once a month. Most of the time it’s not a bad experience, except when people bring those little rugrats with them to the store and they roll around on those wheeley sneakers. There should be a law about not bringing kids to grocery stores. I’m not taking responsibility if one of those kids trips and falls and hits their head on the hard five inch concrete floor.
I was lucky today, no one in line, I should of been out in a jiffy. It took me longer to check out and pay, then it did to do my whole shopping. I could of killed the cow and butchered it, in the time it took him to fucking ring me up, not to mention the continuous whining of the conveyer belt piercing through my ears. Then I had two packages of pork chops and sausages and the dumb bastard, and I don’t ever, ever, ever call anyone dumb, rang them up the same. Meat is sold by the pound, there is no two alike prices. What the fuck.
And then when your done and walking out the door, there is a man who looks at your reciept, so you hand him the reciept and he looks up and down the list. Do you really think he is looking at all $350.00 worth of groceries. I think not, I guess it makes it look good, what he really is doing is wasting my fucking time.
Now I get home, with this migraine of a headache and my son who thinks he Don Jaun, sprays himself with axe body spray, enough for the whole fucking block and now I have to sit out on my porch and drink beer and blog until my house is aired out.