Wal-Rant.

I went to Wal-Mart with Nima today, and for the first time in a LONG TIME, I felt terribly depressed.

WM (Wal-Mart) depressed the fuck out of me. As soon as I walked in, a heavy sensation of GLOOM weighed me down. The world seemed like a mundane, suffocating place as I passed by the long line of obese children waiting to buy their double quarter pounder with cheese happy meals and into the Men's clothes section, where all the articles of clothing looked like they were meant for Cholos (elbows up, side to side). The WM employees didn't help the situation at all. This is going to sound mean, but I gotta say it, because this is what I felt. THEY WERE ALL DEPRESSING TO LOOK AT. Each employee I saw seemed like they could be the next serial killer to make it big on the local evening news, on some KTLA/KCAL9 shit. They would be the serial killers who get caught easily because they are heavy and can't run away from the cops. The lighting inside Wal-Mart just sucks any vitality out of the place. The aisles were beyond beige and fantastically dull, to the point where I could paint the Last Supper on them shits and no one would notice. The customers (most of whom were fat as a blimp) looked like they were about to hang themselves while shopping for an 8pack of Fruit of the Loom underwear. AND WHY IS IT SO BIG? AND SO FULL OF UNORGANIZED MERCHANDISE?! Fuuuuuucccckkk. Fuckin' depressin'. I felt like I was in a jail cell of consumerism, trapped till I buy something with my hard earned Andrew Jacksons. What killed me was that if you want to leave the place, you gotta go through a fuckin' checkpoint manned by some old white lady. If your receipt is irregular and/or you have other items, you can't even leave the fuckin' place until that shit is sorted out. If you manage to get out in time without slitting your wrists in the kid's section, leaving a pool of blood near the Parker Brother board games, you still feel depressed because of the fuckin' humongous WAL-MART sign that watches you as you leave the fort. That sign is fuckin' depressing too. It's huge, blocky, white, and says 'Even if you feel like shit while you're in here, you'll end up coming back because of our low low prices. Bitch.' AND WHAT IS UP WITH THAT BIG ASS SMILEY FACE?! That shit creeps me the fuck out. The only thing smiling inside a WM is that mascot. You know why it's smiling? Because it's fuckin' evil. That's why. It's the devil reincarnate, in a fuckin' yellow smiley face for fuckin' WM. Do you remember the way it bounces around in those WM commercials? If you can remember that, then you know what I'm talking about. I could go on and on, but I think the smiley face is watching over me as I type this, since I still have the essence of WM on my shirt.

So, the moral of today's story is....

DON'T EVER GO TO WAL-MART UNLESS YOU WANT TO FEEL LIKE SHIT.

I'm going to need years of therapy for today's WM visit. Years.

FUCK WALMART.