After the prom, and I ain’t got no scum bag
Saran wrap, Saran wrap
Freak together, love together, slurp together, scream together
Saran wrap, Saran wrap
– The Fugs
Amazon Prime, our colosseum peepshow, worldwide bathhouse, keeps our stalls sufficiently partitioned. The walls long for priapismic normalcy. It’s more fun when we’re struck blind by content for looking. Elevator jazz on a boombox, steady rhythm ride cymbals,
I was leaving Walmart today only to be accosted on my way out by a geriatric old man asking to check my receipt with the bags in my cart. There used to be kind, gentle old ladies greeting me on my entrance now there’s this decrepit shitbag standing in their place wanting to give me a very thorough pat-down. I kindly told him in a manner which communicated to him my unwillingness to cooperate as well as my desire to leave the store without provocation that I would let him check my receipt with my bags if he emptied out his pockets and let me root through his car beforehand.