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I’m not nice anymore, if I ever was

July 11, 2008

I’ve hardly been anywhere for a month, except Raleys, what with the smoke, and lung problems (resolved) and the fiery burning heat. And may I just say that I am tired of grocery shopping with people who were RAISED BY WOLVES.

There have always been those occasional lowlifers that treat a grocery store like a buffet, but they used to be few and far between. Now every time I go, there is at least one, and with the arrival of grape season their chronic grazing is out of control. I mean, these aren’t tasters– that would be bad enough; these people are putting away about twenty grapes a pass. I don’t want their grubby hands all over the produce I’m planning to buy, and I wish they’d keep their feral two-year-olds somewhere within their sight, rather than letting them range into the next aisle thrusting their snot-and-spit-covered hands into the every single bulk food bin they can reach.

OK I’m done. I told you I wasn’t nice.

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