karma 101 (587 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 0 on 2 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <mre1234.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2004-01-15 13:35:45 EST
People love to brag about the things they buy, rich people and poor people alike. The only difference is that rich people will always talk about their newly purchased wares by stating how expensive it was. Those less fortunate instead focus on how cheap their find was.
I am the exception. I am not rich, but I am not poor, so I must be middle class. I float the range of the spectrum on this subject depending on those surrounding me. In front of rich friends, I proudly display my 300 dollar phone that is more like a toy than a phone. See how it stores pictures and has a separate phone book section for booty call organized by their respective sexual talents and repertoires. I flaunt my Lexus keys by boldly putting them on the counter for all to see and marvel!!
Conversely, once around the poor and unfortunate, I keep my keys in my pocket. I brag about the shoes I procured at Ross, or Rack Room for less than a twenty dollar bill. I shouted out how i still had enough left after all the splurging to get me a jumbo jack and a courtesy cup of water, which I sneakily filled with sprite (because its clear and looks like water).
But Goodwill, now that's a different story. I will talk your ear off and burn your retinas writing about some Goodwill because my God has been good to me. I love the thrift store because you always leave feeling a little better about yourself at the cost of others misfortune. No matter how down and out I am, at least I CHOOSE to shop there.
I have found obviously frowning teddy bears clutching pink hearts adorned with the words I love you; a gift perfect for confusing your significant other. Try finding a valentines card at hallmark that expresses that sentiment.
I have bought birthday cards for friends for 10 cents. Cards that at first glance look like a retard scribbled happy birthday and drew a blue duck because the artist had never seen a blue duck before and wanted to. Then you look at the back of the card looking for that hallmark crown, and instead you are confronted with the news that this card was created by corky, a 5 year old with no arms who had to create this crayola masterpiece by drawing with his mouth and/or feet. Proceeds from this purchase went to purchase more art supplies for the venerable little tyke. Cant get mad, its charity.
My most recent purchase involved a pair of sort of "like sweat pants but not because it had zippers and no elastic cuff at the bottom".
"I love these pants", I would tell anyone who hadn't yet heard of the wonders of my boot cut sweatpants with zippers. "See, look how suavely they fit at the ankle. See how they just perfectly drape themselves over the top of my air force ones. Look at my miraculous and amazing ability to store my wallet, my cell phone and my car keys in the smoothly gliding up and down zippered pockets adorning each leg at the hip and one at the left knee. Only cost me three dollars. Yup sure did."
Punch line after lengthy setup and worthless prose:
12:30 am Tuesday:
Subject approaches window at convenience store wearing black boot cut sweat pants...Left hip pocket seems to bulge out from side, possibly concealing some sort of weapon or huge phallus ... Subject appears to be talking to clerk...Apparently subject bought pants at goodwill for less than three dollars...subject talks too much about pants...clerk looks up and reaches for cigarettes with a disinterested look on his face...subject appears to not care and babbles on...subject reaches into left hip pocket, presumably for wallet...wait...subject is cussing at his pants...the zipper appears to be stuck...subject is yelling something about irony...clerk appears disinterested and walks away from glass...
Yes, my three dollar pants ate my wallet, my keys, and my cell phone. The zipper was so beyond stuck that it seemed to smile at me with all two hundred of its teeth. Smiled mockingly because it knew that its defiance had stranded me out on the street broke, without a phone and unable to unlock my vehicle.
For five minutes until I found a stick sharp enough to poke a hole in the pants (insert your own joke here) thus enabling me to rip the pocket open from the inside, all I could think was how these stupid fucking three dollar pants cost me everything: my ride, my booty calls, my cigarettes, my money, and my pride.
Best part was, at one point, as I am sitting there trying to accomplish this goal, I look behind me and see that fucking camel jockey laughing at me from his folding chair perch behind bullet proof glass. Wanna know how shitty it feels to be laughed at by a wanna be 7-11 pope foreigner in your own country?
Pretty fucking shitty. Probably about as bad as you might feel that while shopping at goodwill, because you have to, you see a spoiled white boy trying on t shirts, laughing at retard art and buying stupid inanimate objects with a gold card. Then the mother fucker gets into a Lexus and drives off smoking a cigarette and hollarin at some girl on one of those useless camera phones.
Fucking karma.
User Reviews
Submitted by shiggidy shwag at 2004-01-15 19:43:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Too bad no one has read this, because it's hilarious
"...concealing some kind of weapon, or huge phallus." Oh shit that's funny
Submitted by iamhewhoisnot (user info) at 2004-01-15 19:06:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
guess i should have come up with a better title.............