Shopping

I made the mistake of going to the mall with three sisters. My purpose was to buy a machine-gun jet-pack. We never made it to the sporting goods store. We did go to sixteen clothing stores, nine shoe stores, three department stores, six boutiques, four bathrooms, and a bra shop. I was sprayed with fifteen types of cologne; forced to buy a tie, which seems like a leash; and thrown-up on by a child, but that's a long story. After five hours, I was in desperate need of that jet-pack. Not only was I bored out of my mind, I died of starvation -- well, almost.

Eventually I was able to crawl with my last breath to the food-court. There I ate fast food. It wasn't very good, but that's something for anther blog. Three days later we left the mall without my jet-pack, but at least we left. But did we go home? No. I learned there are strip malls. We were gone for a week. Tomorrow I'm going with Joe to get the jet-pack.

Bye-bye, I'm never going shopping with a girl again. I will write again in a planetary rotation. May you never find fire worms in your shoe.

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