Monday, January 22, 2007

Dear Walmart Employees -

I'm sure you're not happy about working at Walmart - hey, I'm not happy shopping at Walmart, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, right?

But here's the deal - I'm still the customer, okay? Which means that my purchases are paying for your small, benefit-less salary (without which, of course, you wouldn't be able to afford those cases of Marlboro Reds that give your voice that oh-so-pleasant sandpaper tone). Which means that you should kind of want me here. Which means that you should move your fucking pallet out of the way when I'm trying to browse the fucking shampoo aisle and not give me a dirty look when I'm just trying to smell some shampoos and decide which one I want.

Think about it!

Thanks,

me


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Dear Walmart Shoppers,

Yes, your child is so cute that he or she puts newborn puppies into diabetic comas. Way to procreate. But you know what is decidedly un-cute? The fact that your child insists on running around like a crack monkey after a 6 pack of Red Bull. Know what else is un-cute? The fact that you refuse to even attempt to contain your child, especially in the fucking parking lot where I'm trying to drive.

If you really care that much about little Madison/Austin/Ranger/Neveah, maybe you should head back into the store and get the child a leash.

Think about it!

Thanks,

Me

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