A Trip to Wal-Mart
Save money, live better, go to hell
Today I went to Wal-Mart (or the Death Star, as my mother calls it) to pick up a ridiculously cheap prescription. As I stood miserable in the line at the pharmacy, a woman sitting in the waiting area behind me was jibberjabbering on a cell phone. Intermittently she would shout “Juanito!” at one of the four small children loitering around a shopping cart behind her. After one particularly piercing shout, I turned to see a three-year-old boy giving the cell phone lady a very confident middle finger. Learn more about the decline of Western civilization here, behold the spread of the Wal-Mart plague here.
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