ten bucks on number 8, please

Supermarkets often play the kind of whiny sexual loser blather R&B that I just can’t stand. oooh baby baby if you could just see that i’m the one for you tonight oh yeah. As I try to figure out the unit pricing on a can of beans. What the fuck. They should just play casiotone music or Devo all the time.

My KONSUMER KWEST for space invaders shoes has sadly come to an end. They were produced in Japan for the 25th anniversary of the game and that’s it. They were apparently $100 or something crazy, too.

My libido and desire for feminine companionship is completely gone lately. This is really, really good news.

I’m up to 450 mg of LOLLBUTRIN and back down to 20 mg of SLAXIL. The SLAXIL should go down to 10 mg next month. I hope the fucking sweating goes away.

While listening to some corporate rock radio station in my rental car, I ran into the inane thing where DJs are forced to “work in” the sponsor as a conversational topic in their banter. So the poor jock has to get in some ad copy about the new Dodge Magnum and its 350 hp Hemi engine, or that great article that’s only available on AOL for Broadband, etc. Marketers are so neat that way. I was thinking that the next inevitable step is that ordinary citizens will be paid some fee like $20/month to mention products and services in their conversations with others, like the characters in TV commercials. “Well, Louise, I’m sorry to hear that your son didn’t get into college. You know, I was using Soft Scrub with Bleach on my sink today and I have to say it left things clean and fresh with just one wipe!” Of course they’d have to spotcheck at least to see that people were carrying out their obligation, so “secret shopper” conversationalists would have to occasionally bust people for not mentioning Fruit Rollups or Term Life Insurance from Mutual of Omaha in conversations.

If I could spend the rest of my life drunk I’d do it, without question.

6 thoughts on “ten bucks on number 8, please

  1. Maybe I could work the gospel into every conversation, and use it as tithing credit.
    I also think they should rename SLAXIL to CHILLAXIL… though SLAXIL is a pretty rad name.

  2. “So, Cyrano, your allergies seem so much better today. I’m glad the pollen count is finally coming down.”
    “Oh, no, the pollen count is sky high. But thanks to this new over the counter Clearifine tablets, it no longer matters. Gotta love those folks over at Huffington Chemicals.”
    Ka-ching 🙂

  3. Forced music
    It’s why I can’t stand shopping for more than a few minutes. Some of the tunes I’ve heard probably 10,000 times in my life. Don’t people ever get sick of hearing those same songs everywhere and everyday? These songs just never die. It boggles my mind. The other problem is that the shopping music is now in the foreground instead of barely perceptible, so there is no way you can possibly tune it out, as it echoes through a warehouse style building.
    It’s also forgotten that we all pay for this “ambience” whether it is wanted or more likely and amazingly goes unnoticed by most people. It adds up and is added into the cost of everything we buy. The companies that provide music to stores are making a pretty good profit and aggressively try to make it more needed even though most people could live without it.
    Forced music is not enjoyable music.

  4. “The People’s Republic of Casiotone!”
    OMGWTFBBQLOLBUTRIN, man. That’s what you need. Those extra TLA’s make all the difference.
    I await the day we all live in The Truman Show. “How about I make you your favorite hot chocolate? Mococoa! Made from all natural cocoa beans, from the upper slopes of Mount Nicaragua, no artificial sweeteners.” “What the hell are you talking about? Who are you talking to?” “I’ve tasted other cocoas, but this is the best!” “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  5. Fuck the sweating. I’ve been on LOLLBUTRIN for more than a year and I still sweat like a motherfucking pig. Not stank sweat. But sweat all over my back and stuff.

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