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Sunday, October 10, 2004

Let the Little Capri Pants Come to Me

Who said anything about shopping? Not me, because when do I shop? Never. Shopping makes me too hot. While shopping, I have to wear sheddable layers, and I have to have someone by my side to carry my shedded layers, because carrying things makes me hot. I can carry one bag until it starts banging into my leg, and then my companion has to carry that, as well. And I have to eat every two hours or I get malicious. Trying clothes on makes me hot, but not trying things on makes me wary. Buying things online makes me wary. Clerks, on the whole, disturb me. Clerks who ignore me make me comfortable, unless I need their attention. If a clerk cuts me dead, my blood pressure rises and I get too hot. I can't have a drink to calm down after poor customer service, because then I will smell boozy. If I smell boozy when I resume shopping, more clerks will cut me dead. This is why I never buy new clothes, and it explains why I wander this earth looking like a dusty extra in “Back To the Future III.”

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