At this rate, I’ll never have to go to WalMart again!

Whilst (sorry, I’ve been watching British sitcoms this weekend) getting my last news fix of the night, I ran across these headlines. It’s official, the world has become strange enough that I no longer have to venture out into the world to bring you stories of the weird. I’m undecided on whether this is good or bad.

Story 1: Astronauts Deal With Flooded Toilet in Orbit Seriously? Like a regular old flooded toilet here on Earth isn’t gross enough? All I can think of is an outer-space porta-potty. No gravity and, and . . . I’ll just leave the rest of it to your imagination. I guess there’s a reason I never became an astronaut. Too much glamor, even for me.

Story 2: Birds Are Evil! I’ve been telling you for years, the birds (all of them!) are out to get us all. This is further proof. My favorite line from this interview? “I have brown hair and I wasn’t sure if the buzzard had mistaken me for a big, slow rabbit, so I decided not to take any chances, and invested in a hat.” Seriously? That was God and the birds warning this man to stay home and sit on his couch NOT to invest in a hat. Or maybe it’s just Darwin’s theory in action? Everyone get hats and stay inside – it’s the only way.

Story 3: No Reason to Grocery Shop . Seriously, what is going on here? Click on the links in the post I linked to see what I’m so worked up about here. WHY am I sitting here worried about paying a little over $1000 to fix our car? WHY do I worry about any of our bills?

I think it’s time we buy us some pigs and cows. We can make cheese and ham (well, technically, we wouldn’t be making the ham just kind of harvesting it – sorry, ewww) and sell it to the gubmint. In no time we’ll be joining the happy folks who are preparing to be taxed at over 50%. Good thing we have no Home Owners Association here – the livestock shouldn’t be a problem.

For now, I’m going to enjoy my respite from Wal-Mart.

2 thoughts on “At this rate, I’ll never have to go to WalMart again!

  1. Where do I line up to get my share of government cheese?

    Don't worry Amy, as soon as Obama finds a reliable supplier of unicorn farts and fairy dust, we'll all be taken care of. Cradle to grave.


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