Search This Blog

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

And this is why you shouldn't share with your mother

I'm currently trying to kill the remainder of a bottle of vodka, after killing the remainder of the beers I had in the fridge, so please excuse any typos and random run-on sentences please.

Definition: PIC= Partner in Crime= BFF= Amie. In case you lot can't follow my logic. Gigglesnort.

So yeah. My date with the cripple carts in the store.

It started with a Zombie Foot. And a surgery. And this girl being on crutches and Percocet. There you go.
After that it started with an innocuous invite from PIC to go wreak havoc and hell... plus I needed a fucking cigarette. So Mother Dear says... "Well when you're out you should get a BBQ lighter. And some duct tape. And some WD-40". (Oh shit, I really was spawned from this woman).

So off we go. Helllooooo Dollar Tree!

Dollar Tree on crutches is like a hopping death trap. All that crap, piled haphazardly in little teeny aisles. I'm lucky I didn't die. But I did get these little cup things, I think they're shot glasses, that have feet. One has boobs and the other one has shorts and little abs. They're supposed to be hula cups I suppose. But Dollar Tree is lame and doesn't carry WD-40 so we had to go to Rite Aid. Rite Aid was boring so I told PIC that we needed to get me a motherfucking beer, stat, cause Mommy Dearest wouldn't let me drink while on Percocet and I was having withdrawals. Plus, I wanted to look like a gangsta carrying around a 40 on crutches. And again why Rite Aid is lame- they don't have 40s. Or 22s. So we had to go to Albertson's... and that's where I lost my shit.

Albertson's has those electro-wheely cripple carts. So I got one.
Then we had to go raid the booze aisle. Like so:

(I think I have a problem)

It's patently unfair that all the loose booze is on the top shelf. Not very nice for alcoholic (psychotic?) cripples in need. So we decided to take a few more pictures for posterity, anyways.
And then I figured out the carts drive backwards! Nirvana!
Wait wait wait. Hold the phones. There's actually TWO cripple carts. So for moral support PIC decided to get the other one so we could race through the store. Oh yeah, bum Mario Cart. I told her I'd be Yogi if I was a real Mario Carter. Which resulted in me learning that it's actually YOSHI... and if you mistype YOSHI into your Droid it turns it into TOFU, which was pretty fucking funny, since I texted it to another BFF and he was all... UH you mean Toad? NOPE. TOFU, MOTHERFUCKER! YEEHAW!
(My cart was faster than hers)

So we're zooming through the store giggling madly like a bunch of high teenagers, taking pictures at random and trying not to run the other patrons of the store over. It was awesome.

When I got back home I tried to tell Mommy Dearest what happened, and why I was laughing so fucking hard. It was funny, dammit!!!

Her response?

"What are you ON? Drugs?"

And this is why you never tell your mother about anything awesome.

No comments:

Post a Comment