Saturday, February 17, 2007

MOA, you're a stinking whore

I love me some Mall of America.

Went there today with my gal Blondie. It was Saturday, we knew what we were getting into. Usually going somewhere THAT packed with mouth-breathers generally induces a mini panic-attack for me. Not so at my beloved MOA. Bring it on, I say (usually).

There were a lot of ugly people there today. Also lots of rotten children, slow-walkers, hee-haws and tards. Oh, and some sort of knitting convention (???). Usually this potpourri of humankind would induce a euphoria for me that I can only guess is much like heroin. We even had bloody marys before said pilgrimage (shortest trip on the wagon-EVER- I know) which should have only enhanced the experience. But alas, not so much.

Once the booze wore off, and a few purchases made ($29.99 red wedge sandals, $9.90 pink linen skirt, $5 shirt) we had to get the hell out. Put all those people in one spot, factor in the fat lolling around, the heavy breathing induced from WALKING, all of the deep fryers at all of the restaurants going full-tilt...and yes sir, you've got yourself one hot, smelly, festering cesspool. Gross.

MOA my dear, you stink. Bad. And you make me sweat...in a bad way.
I'll be back to visit you, purchase your wares and have a martini or two, but not until you get rid of a few of those other assholes you let in.

We need you all to ourselves.

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