I was weighing my fruit options -- commercial strawberries with extra pesticides for $3.99 or a tote of very shiny apples offered by an aged crone in a pilled out shawl with a big wart on her big nose and gnarled stick-like fingers. oh wait. that was a mirror, and a pimple not a wart. whew.
This woman looks great, suspiciously well turned out. She does not have a single Old Dutch product in her cart. Nor a big stack of coupons, nor three children with pink-eye(s), nor a motorized wheelchair that she's soon going to drive to the Grand Canyon or Walmart. So what the hell, you may ask, is she doing at Cub? I don't know. I have a pimple that is diverting all my brain fluid.
This much I know: her tweed jacket was purchased from Nordstrom's in the pioneer days when department stores tailored jackets for free, pants are JCrew with zippers at the bottom, she is tall and her feet are small
there was no mall
to appall
y'all
instead, she crawled,
trawled,
what's it called...
Shu on Grand for these Josef Seibel boots.
there was no mall
to appall
y'all
instead, she crawled,
trawled,
what's it called...
Shu on Grand for these Josef Seibel boots.
Excuse me homey, but would you like a very shiny apple that is probly not poisoned?
1 comment:
Want. Boots.
Thanks for the early morning laughs!(What? It's still 8 minutes to noon...)
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