In a moment of weakness I walked in to Walmart; it was right there, and I figured discount retailer equals discount retailer.
Did I ever learn my lesson ... again. It's been a while. But what an agglomeration of genetic abnormalities ...
... slouch through that beastly realm.
The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
I got more and more spooked as I meandered among the aisles; ultimately I put my few items back and walked right out, got in my car and drove to Target.
I'm definitely in the latter's target demographic (huh huh) I learned. Seems a small matter, but egads, gadzooks and great googly moogly. I'll take the illusion of differentiation over the bleak light of day experience of hob-nobbing with the hoi polloi.
"God must have loved the common man, for he made so many of them," Grandma R. used to say. Such haughty self regard cuts against the Midwestern lumpen proletariat ethos, but so does higher education, avant garde cultural insurrections and top shelf imported scotch.
I'll take my elitist snobbery hand in hand with a red and white shopping bag, thank you.
They have that popcorn machine right at the entrance anyway.
I'm definitely in the latter's target demographic (huh huh) I learned. Seems a small matter, but egads, gadzooks and great googly moogly. I'll take the illusion of differentiation over the bleak light of day experience of hob-nobbing with the hoi polloi.
"God must have loved the common man, for he made so many of them," Grandma R. used to say. Such haughty self regard cuts against the Midwestern lumpen proletariat ethos, but so does higher education, avant garde cultural insurrections and top shelf imported scotch.
I'll take my elitist snobbery hand in hand with a red and white shopping bag, thank you.
They have that popcorn machine right at the entrance anyway.
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