Dear Walmart employees and customers of the store I trashed,
Am I sorry that I didn’t know Black Friday wasn’t a thing here in Canada? No, not really. I am sorry that Canadians don’t have the opportunity to know the joy of two dollar waffle makers. True, the waffle maker will sit in the cupboard for six years, unopened, until you rediscover it and give it to your Mother for Christmas because you’re an asshole. But still, two dollar waffle makers.
Am I sorry that I ran into your Walmart, baseball bat swinging, with the erroneous belief that I would need it to fend off maniacs from trampling my skull? Not at all. Who’s to say the only reason I didn’t have my skull trampled was because I was swinging around a baseball bat?
Am I sorry that, upon discovery of there not being a Black Friday sale, I drove what I thought was my car through the front entrance of your store? A little bit I guess. There was no need for me to shout at the people shouting at me. For that, I am sorry.
Am I sorry that I took off my clothes and ran through your store, completely alienating all of your customers, because I thought the police wouldn’t be able to identify me because I was no longer wearing my clothes? Well, I don’t actually remember that happening because I had smoked all my PCP so the cops wouldn’t find it. For all I know you made that up and doctored the CCTV videos and also paid several locals to lie about it happening.
Am I sorry that I dressed in women’s clothing from your women’s wear department to hide my nudity? No. The clothes were silky smooth, form fitting, and affordable. No man should apologise for that.
All in all, I think that both sides here are equally to blame. I think it’s ridiculous that I’m the only one in prison, and the only one being court ordered to issue an apology letter. Where’s my letter of apology for all the terrible things you did to me like having your employees shout at me or calling the cops? Equal justice for all my ass.
Happy Black Friday.
Your friend and loyal customer,
Megyn Kelly is an esteemed television news anchor with the esteemed television news channel Fox News. Recently she correctly reported that pepper-spray is essentially a “food product” which is entirely correct and not at all stupid. Inspired by her Edward R. Murrow Award worthy journalism, I have compiled a list of things that are essentially other things.
Here’s a list of things that are “essentially” other things:
- A mirror is essentially a television
- A Big Wheel is essentially a motorcycle
- Advil is essentially crystal meth
- This blog is essentially The New Yorker
- Bleach is essentially water
- The cast members of Jersey Shore are essentially the Nobel Prize Committee
- Denmark is essentially North Korea
- Socks are essentially sperm banks
- Megyn Kelly is essentially Albert Einstein
I’ve been feeling pretty down lately, you guys.
Between the ongoing writer’s block I’ve been experiencing for several months, the Occupy news I’ve been reading, the Conservative Government’s assault on the values upon which Canada was built, and my struggle with seasonal depression, I’ve been having a bum time. I’m going to need a lot more photos of cats wearing bow ties than Tumblr can provide to lift me out of this funk.
I don’t know why I’m writing this because you all have your own problems to deal with and you don’t need to think about mine, but here we are.
Let’s stop beating around the bush.
102A Madison Avenue. Door’s unlocked. Let’s fuck.
“Okay everybody, you’re here to learn and I’m here to teach. So let’s get to it, shall we?” The teacher said.
“Now a baby, he ain’t like a cat,” the teacher told us, “there’s a whole lotta things you can do to a cat that ya can’t to a baby. What are some things you can do to a cat that you can’t do to a baby?”
“Feed it cat food!” Yelled Darryl.
“Make it poop in a litter box!” Shitomi yelled.
“Make it wear dresses and take it on picnics with you. And the whole time call it your ex-wife’s name, pretending that you two are still together, in the infancy of your relationship when everything was going so great. Before she cheated on you with the Italian clothes designer that lived in the apartment above you. Before the allegations of homosexuality started flying around. Before the heavy and prolonged drug use…” I trailed off. I realised that the entire classroom was now staring at me, and several of my classmates had their mouths open in shock.
“Well you can’t!” I said, “my sister told me that I can’t, and that that’s the reason I’m not allowed playing with her baby unsupervised anymore.”
No one moved. No one closed their mouths. No one looked away. No one even made a sound.
I slowly stood up from my desk and walked towards the door.
“It’s a good answer,” I said before leaving the class.
“It’s a good answer,” I said to myself in my car.
“It’s a good answer,” I said as I ate my dinner, later that night.
“It’s a good answer,” I said as I took pictures of Darryl’s family as they ate dinner.