Freedom of Speech, my ass. "Ya got the right to say the RIGHT shit, or yer ass is toast, son."
Case in point:
So a friend and I were walking through Wal-Mart on Sunday, and I pointed out how all the fat-carts were in use.
My friend complained aloud how he wanted to drive all of the whale-mobiles over to the far side of the store, so the fat-asses would have to waddle over to get them.
Then I remarked how sick I am of these whales wasting coal-fired, global-warming electricity just because they're too fuckin lazy to put one foot in front of the other.
And what should cruise from behind a rack of plus-sized tents but a whale on wheels. (She was savagely ugly, by the way.)
"Hey!" she shouted at us, "I'll have you know I suffer from a medical condition!"
I just looked in her basket, and noticed three bags of potato chips sittin there. I didn't bother commenting on the sheer irony of the statement.
"I wasn't talking to you!" I responded.
"I heard what you said!" she spat, "What's your name! Don't you know I could sue you for harassment!"
Uh huh.
Well, I'd hate to admit it, but I ran like a bitch.
Yep. I could've poured a couple of gallons of vitriol all over that fuckin sack of jello but there was something so... stomach-turning about this miserable, fat, sweating, heavy-breathing, angry, bitter slob even talking in my direction, that it was in the interest of self-preservation that I should escape what I had unwittingly wrought.
And the coup de grace, of course, is my wallet being even slightly threatened with a good Jewish lawyer.
Better to flee the vomit-inducing scene than enflame it. I'm not gonna hang around while some cunt attempts to scrape up fat pride with the help of some good Jewish lawyer. Maybe she's got the time and money. I don't.
So I said, "Fuck this!" and we walked.
She shouted, "Hey! Get back here!" and put her whale-mobile into overdrive... but one of its tired wheels got caught on the edge of a clothes rack and she couldn't pursue us.
A black Wal-Mart employee standing an aisle away followed us away from the whale, whose "Hey! Hey!" continued from behind garish handbags and cheap plasma televisions, but then quickly turned down the next aisle.
He smirked at us like, "I don't need to be involved in this shit!"
So, there you have it. I ran like a bitch, but I don't feel bad about it. I have no desire to receive a summons to appear with a good Jewish lawyer over some frivolous PC bullshit.
Not on a day out shopping for milk and some light bulbs...
Jurched
Case in point:
So a friend and I were walking through Wal-Mart on Sunday, and I pointed out how all the fat-carts were in use.
My friend complained aloud how he wanted to drive all of the whale-mobiles over to the far side of the store, so the fat-asses would have to waddle over to get them.
Then I remarked how sick I am of these whales wasting coal-fired, global-warming electricity just because they're too fuckin lazy to put one foot in front of the other.
And what should cruise from behind a rack of plus-sized tents but a whale on wheels. (She was savagely ugly, by the way.)
"Hey!" she shouted at us, "I'll have you know I suffer from a medical condition!"
I just looked in her basket, and noticed three bags of potato chips sittin there. I didn't bother commenting on the sheer irony of the statement.
"I wasn't talking to you!" I responded.
"I heard what you said!" she spat, "What's your name! Don't you know I could sue you for harassment!"
Uh huh.
Well, I'd hate to admit it, but I ran like a bitch.
Yep. I could've poured a couple of gallons of vitriol all over that fuckin sack of jello but there was something so... stomach-turning about this miserable, fat, sweating, heavy-breathing, angry, bitter slob even talking in my direction, that it was in the interest of self-preservation that I should escape what I had unwittingly wrought.
And the coup de grace, of course, is my wallet being even slightly threatened with a good Jewish lawyer.
Better to flee the vomit-inducing scene than enflame it. I'm not gonna hang around while some cunt attempts to scrape up fat pride with the help of some good Jewish lawyer. Maybe she's got the time and money. I don't.
So I said, "Fuck this!" and we walked.
She shouted, "Hey! Get back here!" and put her whale-mobile into overdrive... but one of its tired wheels got caught on the edge of a clothes rack and she couldn't pursue us.
A black Wal-Mart employee standing an aisle away followed us away from the whale, whose "Hey! Hey!" continued from behind garish handbags and cheap plasma televisions, but then quickly turned down the next aisle.
He smirked at us like, "I don't need to be involved in this shit!"
So, there you have it. I ran like a bitch, but I don't feel bad about it. I have no desire to receive a summons to appear with a good Jewish lawyer over some frivolous PC bullshit.
Not on a day out shopping for milk and some light bulbs...
Jurched