The pictures on this page are big. I need to make them big because I am a terrible photographer who likes small details. Therefore, I shall use a big font. I went out again. This time it was to the West Farms' Mall. West Farms is the town in name only, not an actual set of western farms. My inability to grasp many basic concepts is only attributable to good old fashioned inbreeding. I thought it would be a good idea to bring the camera. It wasn't, because now I'm wasting more time writing stupid stuff like this that I could be spending... writing other stupid stuff like this. I have a near-finished page about Denny's that is precisely 379 days old as I tell you this. I'm even counting . Salgorps sees the camera and wants to take pictures of our cats. Salgorps always wants to take blurry, meaningless, occasionally cruel pictures of our stupid cats. Because there just aren't enough of these on the internet.
Baw, were we surprised! This is a joke, by the way. My grandmothers have been dead since 2002 or earlier. HA HA HA HA HA! Always a good sign... Fighleans had lots of posters of models who looked to be in the process of either putting on or removing their pants. It's hard to tell. This is probably why the store is represented in print, on television and shopping bags by figures which don't wear any. That's kind of a stupid transition, but I didn't take any pictures of the models. Right outside Filene's was the Rainforest Cafe. If you have the money, you can be served up the finest endangered birds, plants and voodoo witchdoctors you'll ever find right outside a Filene's. When you go out to a place where things are sold, you'll do best when you bring plenty of money. Ah, there we go.
I, at least, didn't want to be around when the giant Smurf came home.
In time, we encountered The Body Shop. All of us had one already, so we didn't stay long. Next time, we should bring Krang with us. We went in more stores. Just so you know. There was a soft pretsel selling place. I wonder what, centuries ago, fat bearded Bavarians (or some other confusion of European stereotypes), feasting in their great Oktoberfest halls, would think had they any idea that the only thing they ate besides sausage would one day be associated with women's tennis.
The time to eat (but not those) was nigh. The hour of closing was not yet upon us, so we didn't get it to go. Maybe next time. We ended up eating food at Gorbo Di Capri or something. Although it was run by the same people and/or robots, Maltos insisted it was "a step up" from Sbarro. I know that a step up from gravel is asphalt or slightly better tasting gravel, but I took the chance. I made scandalous use of the free garlic, oregano, red oregano and plenty of eese in an attempt to justify the price. The very Italian Cher song being broadcast in the vicinity reminded me to stop before I opened any Sweet 'n Low packets and look for some Equal instead. A moment later and I'd have been out of luck, for I cannot turn back time. Afterwards, the restrooms were a destination, I went there before eating, actually, but here I am telling it as if I did it later. We saw one childe run into the man-room and then run right out. Maltos thought that he must not have arrived as soon as he would have liked, whereas I observed that the stall dividers did not reach to the ceiling (why?), and it seemed plausible that, providing the space was vacant, a talented person could use the toilet without venturing far from the doorway. Come to think of it, this technique would probably work regardless of vacancy. And... why stop with a toilet? You could relieve yourself just about anywhere. You needn't even expose a bit of yourself to do it. That's why these are all over the place:
This warrants further investigation. I'm glad to see the Pull-Ups Training Pants [big] kid is still getting work. Fun at Playtime. Playing is fun. Playing, playtime. Of course! So that's the secret! Soviet Russia suffered needlessly! I know why some people must like them, at least. Salgorps thought this was really funny. I did too, but I won't admit it. I shan't ask what you think of it. I especially like the sedate, submissive glance the deer is giving the elvis-dog. This one was more "in the mood," as evidenced by its lack of pants. Still, neither dog's performance compared to the "Kung-Fu Fighting" gerbil we found at the Crystal Mall. No, it's not a mall made out of crystal. I was disappointed too.
Speaking of too, we went to Limited Too, too. Limited Too is what the place is called. Fortunately for me, not being anorexic, under 15 years old or evil I didn't buy anything. I think it is called Limited because the shear trash factor of their products insures that no great amount of any one thing will be made and Too just because that sounds dumb and is harder to put in a sentence. No thank you, I already know how to spell stab. Before leaving I would have liked to be asked again, so that I could request directions to the exit, but I suppose it is possible, however unlikely it may seem, that they believed me the third time I turned down their offers. As long as there's a picture of books, I'll talk about books some more. Most malls have several book stores which all sell the same books. I don't "read," so this is not of great concern to me. I noticed that there's another new re-collection of Charles Shulz junk. He's like the Tupac Shakur of bad cartooning. Or maybe Tupac Shakur is like the Charles Shulz of recording yourself talking and then forgetting about it. Ehhh. This new edition was titled "The Art of Charles Shultz." Because he made it so well. Surely you've seen Peanuts in a newspaper and thought, gee whillickers, I'd appreciate the work that went into creating these flat colored, undetailed, large-headed photocopied cretins a lot better if they took up the whole page. The next time we meet will be on the battlefield. Right beside this book store there was another store. These things are everywhere.
The Rock (whose real name is Rocky Melvin) has really changed since he went to Hollywud and became a metrosexual. I saw that word on the What's New Compuserve menu once. I thought they had just made it up to annoy me. I still do. All these places we went to, and I ended up not buying anything. I wasn't planning to buy anything. I have problems. However, I did not wish to leave without some kind of shoevenir. Mentos insisted I put this "back" because someone might come looking for it. I think that's about as likely as the same person not finding it and then coming here and using this web page to locate it. There were a few shoe stores. I contemplated entering one, taking a chair, and waiting to be asked if I needed any help (I just look like I need help). And then I would say "why yes, I'd like to return this." But I didn't. Ehmm... wait, you don't know that. Yes, I did that, didn't i. We all had a good laugh and then we smoked cigars and sang some showtunes and gave out fire safety tips to the home viewing audience. And that was the end. You'd like that story better, wouldn't you! So would I. In my version, Maltos and Salgorpsponce came out of the Hallmark rip-off store just as I was asessing the situation and they directed various signals at me. They didn't even try to leave without me this time. The getaway car was right where we left it, so we made our way back through Filene's and departed, though I would have prefered to take a prolonged stroll through the parking lot by way of
any other exit at all.
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