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I don't pound myself in the privates with a hammer for fun. And yet I willingly go to the local Wally World Supercenter. 
Our first sighting takes us to the apparel department, where I find a rather large, rotund mother struggling with her young children, who are tearing through the department while she vainly tries to chase after them. It all looks like Michael Moore is trying to run after Usain Bolt.
Finally, in frustration, mother bellows out "Git yer fuckin' asses over here NOW!"
Those kids are going to have the most colorful vocabulary someday.
Next we head on over to health and beauty aids. where Yours Truly probably lets Internet fame slip through his fingers. As I'm perusing shampoo I notice a woman not far from me down the aisle, in her 40s or 50s I'd estimate. Not large-figured, and wearing a jacket over a pink shirt of some kind, and skinny-ish jeans tucked into black fuzzy boots.
She bends over to look at something on a lower shelf. Up goes the shirt, down come the pants, and damn if I ain't staring at about an inch and a half of her asscrack.
I debated taking a picture with my cell phone and sending it off to People of Walmart. I ultimately didn't because the battery is almost dead and because there were other people around so I might have been discovered. But I did have my hand in my pocket, gripping the phone, just in case inspiration struck.
Our first sighting takes us to the apparel department, where I find a rather large, rotund mother struggling with her young children, who are tearing through the department while she vainly tries to chase after them. It all looks like Michael Moore is trying to run after Usain Bolt.
Finally, in frustration, mother bellows out "Git yer fuckin' asses over here NOW!"
Those kids are going to have the most colorful vocabulary someday.
Next we head on over to health and beauty aids. where Yours Truly probably lets Internet fame slip through his fingers. As I'm perusing shampoo I notice a woman not far from me down the aisle, in her 40s or 50s I'd estimate. Not large-figured, and wearing a jacket over a pink shirt of some kind, and skinny-ish jeans tucked into black fuzzy boots.
She bends over to look at something on a lower shelf. Up goes the shirt, down come the pants, and damn if I ain't staring at about an inch and a half of her asscrack.
I debated taking a picture with my cell phone and sending it off to People of Walmart. I ultimately didn't because the battery is almost dead and because there were other people around so I might have been discovered. But I did have my hand in my pocket, gripping the phone, just in case inspiration struck.
And, if he has a choice in the matter, at least one sheet to the wind ~_~ He be fun 
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