chiaThePet
Posts: 2694
Joined: 2/4/2007 Status: offline
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The former wife used to bribe me to go clothes shopping with Her with promises of food and drink if i was a good little helper. She knew i would give Her an honest opinion of how She looked in the outfits She chose. i had a fairly keen eye for adorments which complimented Her body shape, skin color, and hair. Most of Her best outfits actually were presents from me for certain occasions, holidays, or simple surprises, i enjoyed seeing Her look Her most beautiful. The act of shopping itself however, just shoot me, put me out of my misery, push me off a cliff, make we walk on hot coals, (what ever happened to the people who used to do that) tie me naked to a tree and sell hot flaming melted marshmallows to passing truckers to fling at me while hysterical Women scream "Smore", "Smore", long story short, i completely lose it. i loathe "shopping". i must know where, when, the quickest route to the isle that contains the item which i must purchase, and they must have a ten items or less express line, or i start trembling, shifting my feet, eyes searching for another cashier, any cashier, just some cashier to CHECK ME OUT! i'm sure i turned into a pathetic, pouting, whiney little boy each time the Wife somehow managed to drag me out of the house, force me into the car, keeping the windows rolled up so i wouldn't take a suicidal leap for freedom. Think taking the dog to the vet, and he knows, he just knows. Please, please, anything but shopping, i beg of you. i kid you not, i will hide for hours if i know someone is looking for a shopping companion. "Olly, Olly Ox in free, chia*, chia*, damn it chia*, I just need one pair of shoes. "Shoes", just shoot me! On, off, on, off, i'm slithering out of the chair while the clerk sweats and gives me that, "At least I'm getting paid to suffer here dude." But i will do it if it makes you happy, cause i love when those i love are happy. Yes, i'll even buy those wing things for you, a great sacrifice, but can be done. Just don't be surprised if you look over and i'm making faces in the mirror, or hiding in the clothes rack, or sticking security tags on peoples butts before they head for the electronic exit. Cause i simply turn into a lost little boy who has to do something to make myself forget that i'm actually being held hostage at the SuperMart of Misery. Now grocery shopping, that i can handle fairly well, though again, people probably think i won a shopping spree and have ten minutes to cover the entire store. And when i get to the front, there damn well better be enough cashiers to get me out before my nutty buddys start melting, if not, i start melting, and that's just not pretty. Bi the way, not gay, more het than anything, but my Momma told me, "You better shop around!" chia* (the pet)
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Love is a many splendid sting. You can stick me in the corner, but I'll probably just end up coloring on the walls.
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