It's the End of the World, and I Helped

I have never been a person who enjoys Wal-Mart. If you do enjoy it, then you're just plain sick. Nothing says fun like waiting in line with the dregs of society trying not to make eye contact or contract an illness. Kind of like the line at the methadone clinic. One might say I hate Wal-Mart.

I also believe Wal-Mart is the downfall of the free market economy, capitalism at its worst. Goodbye, Mom and Pop shops of yesteryear, we got us a Wal-Mart. The only thing that can compete is another superstore, a better superstore, free of creepies and slightly more expensive. I love said superstore, for it is not Wal-Mart.

That having been said, I had to truck out to Wal-Mart for something or other yesterday and had to eat my words. I found tank tops for $3.50. The tank tops I had been wearing were left over from my preggo days and were way to big. So I got three new, seemingly well constructed tank tops for $3.50 a piece. And since at that point I was going to hell anyway, I bought a few pairs of shorts for $10 each. So if you need clothes and happen to find yourself in the armpit of the universe, stop and take a look.