Footnotes on Literary Pursuits and a Shopping Trip

My two weekly periodical subscriptions arrived on schedule this weekend.  US Weekly and The New Yorker.  I’m now aware that a California coyote ate Jessica Simpson’s Malti-poo for lunch, and in apropos juxtaposition, that the new “it” pet for suburbanites legally allowed, is the chicken.  Really, the only point in that sentence was to see if I could put “apropos” and “juxtaposition” not only in the same line, but next to each other.  Literary success!  Wile E. no longer needs to drop an anvil on the roadrunner, he can just eat Foghorn Leghorn.  Or even better, Scrappy Doo.  I hated that annoying little dipsh*t.   Total shark jumping moment for an otherwise GREAT cartoon.  Anyway, such is the dichotomy of my daily life.

Yesterday I reached the conclusion that the automotive department at Fred Meyer wins the “most boring” award for places to hang out.  The most interesting thing in the FM automotive department is the Tinkerbell fuzzy dice.  Ya gotta love Tink.  Not only does she have atty-tude, but she’s also the only fictional female character annihilated by Disney that knows how to SHUT UP.

After becoming ADD in automotive I wandered over to the furniture area.  Gave a good hard look at the entertainment centers, but they failed to entertain me.  Why would anyone spend good money on something that doesn’t function as advertised?

Next stop, toys.  Much more up my alley.  I collected a pink Nerf football and went back to automotive with the intention of trying out my best Brett Favre.  Unfortunately, the automotive mission now involved a couple of FM employees, and it seemed really unfair to bean one of them in the back of the head.  Rob, accustomed to shopping with me, would have known how to respond to the audibles, but the FM guys?  Probably not so much.  So, I went back to  toys and got a soccer ball and some orange plastic cones and set up a dribbling course in the aisle.

Playing soccer at FM does two things:

1.  You learn it’s hard to play soccer in heels.

2.  People look at you kind of funny.

A nice young man of about, maybe, eight thought I was really cool and wanted to set up some goal cages.  We were trying to plan suitable construction when the plot was foiled by his parents and the appearance of the automotive contingent.

People have no idea how to have fun.

This entry was posted on Monday, September 28th, 2009 at 7:40 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.