Friday, February 25, 2011


This afternoon, because I needed to get out of the house and still had a 25-dollar Amex gift card, I drove Phyllis the bitchin' Honda over to Watahtown, where there's an F-21, an F's-B, and a Marshalls.

And also a Targrocery, but more on that in a bit.

I have been visiting the baby section of every store I go into lately, looking for outfits for the babies in my life. But I can never find anything, because baby outfits these days suck. Where are the sweet rompers with the snap-crotches, or the dresses with the ruffle-bum diaper covers? Instead there are leggings. Which are going to give any baby worth his salt (i.e., a fat baby) chub rub. Blech. Then to go with the leggings will be shirts that say things like "cutie" on them. Double blech. If you are a cute baby, it goes without saying. If you have to declare your good looks on your shirtfront, you're probably a troll.

Anyhoo, I bought not one thing on my trip, despite spending three hours wandering about. I bought nothing for babies and nothing for me. I'm not feeling very confident about my figure or my hair or my skin. I think I might kind of look like shit. I certainly feel like shit. But I soldier on.

Today that soldiering included a march through a Target I haven't been to in years, it turns out, since when I asked the girl at the in-Target Starbucks when the in-Target Starbucks was born she said 2009. OK then. This Target also has a grocery store, like a super W-maht. When did that happen? It was all very strange, a bit Lion Witch Wardrobe in that I was walking through a familiar place full of clothes and all of a sudden I was somewhere entirely new and unexpected, only instead of Narnia it was a Targrocery store which sold Tarcupcakes and Tarmadelines and frozen Tarcrabrangoons.

The other thing new about this Target is that it no longer smelled occasionally like farts. Because, and this is why I stopped going to this Target years ago, you might be looking at hand lotion or maybe you're checking out undershirts when all of a sudden you smell something and that something is a nasty Masshole fart.


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