Walmart Fat

I’m 1/16th Jew, and that tiny bit of Hebe DNA has given me the magical ability to suffer any indignity so long as a bargain is to be found. I didn’t hesitate to pick up a quarter from a piss covered men’s room floor yesterday, and I’ve even trained my body to like Little Caesar’s barely edible pizza, but there are limits, and savings aside, it’s almost impossible to tolerate Walmart.

It’s a veritable sea of sub-humanity with its own little circles of hell. In addition to gluttony, violence and fraud, you can add the rage inducing fury of being stuck behind obese mongoloids on store-owned scooters as they slowly glide over the aisles like goddamned blue whales trolling for krill.

But one of Walmart’s third-world computer programmers bit the pudgy hands that feed them yesterday when plus-sized women’s Halloween costumes were correctly listed on the Walmart website as “Fat Girl Costumes.”

Predictably this got the blogosphere’s pre-diabetic blood boiling, but the truth hurts and people need to hear it. I didn’t flinch when my father-in-law called me a stupid drunk at his birthday party last week because I’m a stupid drunk, and it didn’t bother me when he flashed a malevolent grin after making his birthday wish.

When we take our family trip to the mountains next week I’ll just make sure we have adjoining rooms so he can listen to me putting it to his daughter extra hard while he and his wife baby-sit our kids.

If people call you a nasty name, you should use that as an opportunity to improve yourself or just say fuck it and seek revenge.  If someone calls you a dumb slut, you can reduce your number of sexual partners.   Or, you can go out and screw their boyfriend and give that prude a back-door STD. Either one works.