i'm devising a master plan to move into Wal-Mart & birth children

Well it's been a solid 11 days since my last post, & even though (clearly) no one is keeping up on my happenings, I feel like I've let myself down. I'll be honest: I've had a lot to write about (truthfully, thinking of everything I have to say keeps me up at night), but I have not been able to step foot in my basement because of the foul, fecal smells that have stunk it up & gagged me to the brink of vom. Brought to you, ever so lovingly, by the shithead puppy I acquired. I say shithead metaphorically. She knows what she's doing is wrong, and to punish herself she eats her own shit. At least that's what I think is going on. Either that or she's just really, really fucking stupid.

So the smell has finally dissipated, and I can descend the stairs confidently into the PennyLaneCave. Hence, the HEREIAM moment we are experiencing together. Or not. 

Anytits, I went to Wal-Mart today, & realized something astoundingly racist/sexist/judgemental about my personality. Have you ever seen the movie Where The Heart Is? If you have, then obviously you've thought to yourself, "SWEET MOTHER MOSES. I would LOVE to live in Wal-Mart!!" (Or maybe Target if you're more "uppity") And I couldn't agree with you more, I think it would be particularly badass to be exactly like Novalee Nation (Nat Portman). And have my baby delivered by a stud muffin who jumps in through the plate-glass windows. Romance at it's most chilvarous.

But what I noticed about myself is that--wandering around Wal-Mart aimlessly for nearly 2 hours--I'M SECRETLY GUESSING WHO'S GOING TO BE SCRUNCHED UP ON A TOILET AT CLOSING TIME, WAITING FOR SECURITY TO LOCK 'ER UP. Only to sneak out ever so diligently, tip toe to the camping department & set up camp. It doesn't seem too judgemental until you understand the Wal-Mart I was venturing through. Keep reading...

It's like a peopleofwalmart.com reunion, & every disfunctional man, woman, and child to ever appear on that website has come back with a fiery vengence to be even more doucherific than before. It's scary to look at the people of Wal-Mart by state (Kansas) & postulate how many of those flaming fuckwads are from my town. There was one girl, in particular today, who struck my LIVIN'INTHEWAL-MART chords the most. I saw her a total of 7 times, which wouldn't be strange considering how I previously stated I was in there for approximately 2 hours, but each time I saw her, she was in the SAME section of the store, perusing through things I KNOW she'd already looked at. Clearly down-&-out, wearing the blackest make-up I've ever seen on an adult face, & the blackest clothes to ever materialize themselves on someone's body. She must not have taken a shower in days (I can imagine it's very hard to use a tiny bathroom sink with automatic water spickets to bathe ones self) & the SECTION in which I saw her was the BABY SECTION. If that doesn't scream AMERICUS NATION IS COMIN OUTTA YO VAGGG, then I don't know what will.

I am by no means saying that I am above this Wal-Mart. I am not, & will be the first to admit I walked in with yesterday's makeup half-caked to my still sleepy face, wearing last night's pajamas with Skecher Shape-Ups on. I looked like a page out of White Trash Weekly. I could/should/MIGHT be on peopleofwalmart.com because the way I looked, coupled with the copious amounts of SHIT I bought were simply contradictory. See for yo'self.....

DAMN I wish I hadn't cut the top off the picture, because it was at LEAST three frozen pizzas higher than that. I apologized immediately to the poor (casino) Indian who had to check me out. I even helped her bag this shit up. And I broke my back trying to manuever a 60+ pound cart with feeble, wobbly piece of ass wheels that turned, literally, every which way but the way I wanted. And the more loaded down the cart got, the more it started to squeak. The longer this story goes on, the more I realize that I really could be Novalee Nation.

..........If only I could mastermind the perfect plan...........

Consider it put into motion. More to come.