Yesterday I went shopping. While quietly browsing the aisles, I hear a baby crying, loudly. The cries sounded strange. As the source came closer, I grabbed a 3-pack of Haines briefs to shove in the little shit's cry-hole. But it wasn't a little shit, it was a toy. Some goddamn kid had a crying doll. By the way, the kid was a boy. Nice fucking dolly, little boy.
I've come to accept that I will always have to put up with screaming kids at stores, restaurants, theaters, and other places I don't think should allow children. But crying toys? WTF! Every shopper in the store was annoyed by this brat, except the parents who showed no concern while their son ran around the store with his wailing toy. Where are those child-molesting kidnappers when you need them?
I guess this is the price I pay for being poor and having to shop at ROSS.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Calm down, Wirthy
Stumble it!
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2 COMMENTS:
"Where are those child-molesting kidnappers when need them?"
That's some good stuff right there! I feel the exact same way! If I can't buy it online, then you don't get a Christmas present. Scratch that, nobody's getting a present from me!
I absolutely concur with everything you said. They are bad enough to listen to in real life.
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