Mr. Ghetto: Walmart
We goin’ to Wally World
The last time I was in a Walmart I drove a fat woman and her disabled son to go grocery shopping. I opted for the Micky D’s while they shopped in hope that they wouldn’t ask me for money and I left with telling the staff that they should all be ashamed with the service they provided me and that they should all be fired. What do they care (I soon realized) their lives are much more horrible than my existence.
Think about it, if you shop at Walmart your life sucks, if you’re forced to work there you may as well just do yourself in. Now I can see the benefits of being a corner nickel-and-dime dealer. The day I ever see myself going to work at a Walmart, unless I’m set to inherit it, I’m killing myself. And I’ll do it way faster than the discount high-fatty foods they plague the majority of their customers with on slowly ending their miserable shitty lives. Even the cold cuts and meat you get in the supermarket section is covered with an artery slaying gelatin that you’ll one day look back and regret on your dying deathbed.
The booties may be phat now, but they’ll be lucky to live till phiftie. They probably don’t even know how to wipe those huge ass’s, you ever tried to rim these bitches, when you’re a white boy you’re forced to do that shit and expose your self to hepatitis and sore throats. At least I can shop somewhere with mark-ups that will steal all my money with a store credit card and add any debt to my already future bankrupt life. Without Walmart in it, at least I’m happy.