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10:01:30 - 2000-08-16

GRANNY NEEDS HER ASS BEAT AND OTHER BEDTIME STORIES

Last night was the most terrifying time I've ever spent inside a Walmart.

Apparently it was "Send the Gangs Back To School" Sale Day at Walmart. Every Blood, Crip, his Gat, his bee-yatch, his posse and his hooptie were there. I could hear The Notorious B.I.G. playing from car stereos before we could even see the Walmart.

Luckily for me, I have a bald spot which commands respect and exemplifies authority.

At least it does at home. On "Gang Day" at Walmart, all it means is I'm a much easier target to shoot, as my balding dome bounces above all the other customer's heads.

Luckily, my ass had no caps popped in it from the day's excursion, but I did almost get killed. Over a Mel Torme CD.

I've been looking for a Mel CD with "September Song" on it for some time, but can't seem to find a copy anywhere. Heading to Walmart, I figured they might stand a good chance at having the Mel of my dreams.

There was a bargain bin rack with $3.99 CDs in it that I started at first. A crowd of people had gathered around the bin. In the corner of the bin, stood a stack of CDs piled on top of each other. I spotted a Mel Torme disc in the stack and reached to grab it, when a little OLD lady (OF COURSE!!) snatched that pile out of my reach and said "These are mine."

Now ... normally I would have said "Oh...sorry" and kept thumbing through discs. But this was an elderly woman with the attitude of a constipated Nazi who had a Mel Torme disc...THE ONLY REASON I HAD FOUGHT THIS FUCKING CROWD OF GANG MEMBERS FOR.

"Can I just see that Mel Torme disc?" I asked nicely.

"There's plenty of them in here," she sniffed, looking like she'd just as soon smack me as look at me.

I searched through that entire bin and there was not another single Mel disc. By this point, the flea-bitten road whore had shuffled on to the Depends Undergarments section so I could not push her down, steal her CDs and dash out an emergency side door like I had originally planned.

I moved to a few other bins until I found the Mel disc that the old woman had. Unfortunately, there was no "September Song" on it.

As we were leaving the parking lot, I spotted the old lady loading her bags of Metamucil and Depends and shitty Mel Torme discs into the trunk of her car. I laid on the horn, swerved within inches of her fake hip, shot my arm out the window, tried to yank her wig off her head but failed and screamed "SEE YOU IN HELL, GRANNY!!!"

Not really. But I did see her loading her car down and secretly wished her car wouldn't start and she'd swelter in the heat for not letting me look at her disc.

Some people are such whores.

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Growing up, whenever I wanted something, Mom would say "People in hell want ice water." This never made much sense to me until I killed Mom. Then one day I got an email from Hell saying "Son...send ice water."

Nowww I get it.

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HELPFUL EVERYDAY TIPS FROM YOUR UNCLE BOB

*If you are called upon to propose a wedding toast, try to avoid the F-word.

*Never run towards the president screaming.

*Cover your mouth when sneezing unless you don't like the person facing you.

*No matter how good it may sound ... do NOT name your garage band "Satan's Semen."

*If you don't recognize it, don't eat it.

*Use the term "Minty Fresh" to describe everything.

*It is inappropriate to scream "Show Us Your Tits!!" at Lilith Fair concerts.

*No matter what your friends may tell you, Jagermeister is NOT a health drink.

*When running from a burning building, make sure you're at least partially clothed.

*Hermaphrodites are people too. Just REALLY STRANGE people.

*If your mate is feeling frisky and wants to try a new position, make sure it doesn't have the word "pretzel" in the title.

*Never pet a dog that has foam coming out of its mouth.

*Judges prefer "Your Honor" over "Hey Asswipe".

*Women don't appreciate being teased with fake marriage proposals.

*Tip your hairdresser handsomely if you're fond of your earlobes.

*Jam is thick. Jelly is rubbery.

*Elderly people suck.

*When deciding whether to spend the cash or do your own at-home nipple piercing ... spend the cash.

*There's not a gerbil on this earth that WANTS to be wedged into a human ass.

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QUESTION OF THE DAY

WALMART...IS IT GOD'S GIFT TO RETAIL OR THE DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND?

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