Friday, 05 October 2012

• I Write a Bad Thing...

     I have to write this. I can't help myself. And it's bad, very bad, so prepare yourselfs. (Yeah I spelled it with an f)

  I was in the store after gym a while ago and there was a young couple in front of me, their cart full to the brim with foodstuffs. It took awhile for them to get checked out, so I just stood there, watching them and letting my inner critical mind run amok as it does. As a side thought here, I am a loving compassionate person with a big big sense of humor, but, alas, my mind is a cold crititical dissecting machine. (He said tit, snork snork) I generally observe my mind from a distance, laughing at its analytical pursed lip anal retentive functions and deriving a great amount of joy at observing its hero-in-its-own-world-know-it-all behavior.

     Anyhow, here's what Mr. Mind was thinking while we were observing this couple..."God! There's a look of utter resignation on that guys face. Look at that cart, Jesus, I wonder what kind of job he has to pay for all that food. His wife is smiling an evil smile to herself. She knows she's got the poor bastard by the balls, the poor guy. Eww, she's already a fat ass and she's still young. No wonder, look at all that shit they're buying, most of it's garbage. Look at him, watching  in dismay as she piles all that food onto the check out thingy belt. She's grinning like Satan with a boner. Shit, she's gonna be the death of him. He looks so forlorn and hopeless and, and...SHE HAS NO CHIN! God, what is she, maybe 23 or 24 or so and already has no chin. She has a pretty face though. I can see why he fell for her before she turned into a baby tugboat. Christ, look at all that food. They're still unloading it and she just keeps grinning to herself. She's evil. Women are evil. He looks like he's ready to put a gun in his mouth, poor bastard. This is like watching Married with Children. Poor Al. Poor this guy. Poor me. Poor all men everywhere who have fallen for hot a foxy tight young thing and then watched her turn into the battleship Yamoto after he married her. God lookit all that food... hmm, I see a lot of salads and vegetables, at least they're trying, but the rest of that  crap is going to outweigh any benefits they get from the vegetables, as is obvious from her size. God, I think she's having an orgasm looking at all that food. Is that spit dribbling from the corners of her mouth? I wonder if I should distract that beached whale and tell that guy to be on his guard at night because she might just cook him up and eat him. Nah, non interference is the karmic law. We must all make our own mistakes and learn from them. Hmm, they're finally done...one hundred and thirty nine dollars and this is a discount store. God, I could eat for a month on that."

     So I went to my car and unloaded my crap and on the way to taking my cart back I saw him, broken and hopeless man that he was, trudging back to their car with his corpulent little wifey, who, with her evil hungry eyes fastened on the moving cart, will, after a few more years of weight gain, no doubt some day roll over on her poor husband in the middle of the night and suffocate him. To death (do us part). Amen.

   

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