(Prior posting from my old webspace)

Well, it’s been a little while since I was inspired to just write something other than a gripe.

Well, with me, inspiration usually finds it’s genesis within some gripe I have with something I’ve come across, and today is no different. I just gotta be me. LOL.

It’s to do with my nutty roommate, Disgrace. I call her Disgrace, and she calls me Swill. It’s a great arrangement, and we both benefit from hours of erotic hallway sex (I say fuck you, she says fuck you, as we pass one another.. so damned satisfying).

My special purpose today is to blog about her favourite passtime. Shopping.

She’s a shophound. I am totally amazed how much time and energy she puts forth into her “conquests”.  To a guy like me, I’m just blown away by it all. I go into a place, pick what I want, and leave..FAST! She, however, has it finely crafted into a sport no Olympian would dare challenge her to. She’d leave them all in the dust.

She bred.  Be afraid, be very afraid.

She must have been shopping during the insemination  The fruit of her scrawny loins have taken to her bloodlust for clothing and accessory shopping  and moved it into a new level. If they get together to shop, it’s like two hounds being released to the hunt. Let them loose, and you inevitably see them three days later, with  the blood of some hapeless sales associate plastered to thier sated snouts.

I once made the mistake of asking them to take me shopping to get those proverbial jeans (which I replaced USED at Value Village in less than three minutes), I was ready to kill by the time they finished dragging me through every single store on planet mall. It was pure hell. They, however, were having a GREAT time. Why wouldn’t they. I think that’s why they are given Barbies as little girls, to prepare them for the art of human dressup torture. I wish I was offered an alternative, like the rack, or perhaps a bed of razors to lay upon. The whole scene has left deep emotional scars on me, and the flashbacks are no less terrifying than bearing witness to one Freddy Krueger creating a human scratching post out of some blonde silicone slut he found asleep at the wheel during the second reel.

Flashbacks are flashbacks, and I don’t make the rules! Man, I won’t make that mistake again.

But Sea Hag has her methods. She had me help her pick out a wall unit to replace her old delapitated one. Seems pretty simple.Well, it took WEEKS, literally, of daily dragging me to every single solitary store that sold anything remotely resembling furniture, with many repeat trips, before she finally settled on one she liked. To be honest, I picked this one, she went with it, after a long long process of elimination, measuring, photographing, milling over, more driving back and forth and back and forth and back and forth…you get the general idea.

She bought a skirt. It’s a five dollar skirt. She spent weeks shopping for just the right one. She brings it home, but does not take the tags off. She’s tried it on for the week she’s had it, over and over. I lay odds it’s going back to the rack which hence it came. It amazes me even more that she spent thirty some dollars in fuel for this purchase. She would go from store to store to store, and repeat the action several times until she was sure. That five dollar skirt is now thirty five dollars and counting…

Why? Well, it’s the challenge. She’s achieved her goal of aquisition. Now, it’s a letdown, and her guilt is kicking in over that five dollar expenditure.

Man, I am so glad I was born with balls instead of hooters. Never will I understand the “weaker” sex. When it comes to sales, bargain bins, and sheer purchasing insanity, it is US, the male of the species that are the weaker sex, make no mistake. We have died in wars, we have died in compounds with Jimmy Jones. But we have never faced fear until we have faced a woman who is hell bent on a red light sale, and you’re in her path threatening to slow her down.

My advice to you “men” that think you can control this in a woman.. DON’T EVEN ATTEMPT IT. You’ll thank for me this sage advice someday.