Shop till you Drop
Well darlings…how was it? Did you survive? Are you ok after that christmas hoohah. It’s a bit nuts right? All the preparation and all those wrapped up packages of second-hand books and home-made dolls and hours spent making cards. Well that’s what I did. I just couldn’t go into the city again to brave the crowd and buy things. There is so much stuff everywhere. One shop multiplied by a thousand. I see a light, a pack of baubles, a wrapped ham, a bunch of frozen pies in a big fridge, five million t-shirts, three hundred thousand shoes, seven thousand sparkly necklaces, two thousand diamond rings, six million pairs of eyes, four hundred thousand bags advertising themselves and it’s way too much. I calculate this shopping mall by all the ones in Australia and then just in the western world and then I’m calculating all the lights and bags and factories and people that make it all. I’m no fun at all when it comes to shopping. Give me a white christmas up the nostrils and I might cope better, help me support sordid industries and I might come shopping with you.
Yes you look great in that dress. But you are still boring me and can we go home. NO sex is worth this torture.
Yes that is a great deal. Two outfits for the price of one already shitty shoddy dress. Get another bag why don’t you? It’s important people know that you’ve got money to burn when you’re out. Those ultra-sophisticated Myers ladies will pay you loads of attention.
Yes it’s true, you’ve noticed no one looks like they had great mind-blowing sex in the last 24 hours. Except maybe those two guys. And that lady with the sunglasses.
THROUGH ALL NINE LEVELS of Dante’s Inferno. At least your ass doesn’t look big in that bed sheet.
The image here on your left depicts shoppers who have fallen off the escalator in the happy home-ware section of My-urghs. Some shoppers have the lucky genetic advantage of being able to decapitate themselves to avoid the inane conversations around them.