Sorrow.

Sometimes inspiration runs a little low in this world. In turn, it is sorta tough to keep up on this thing every single day. Last night I was trying to think of something to come up with today and I was drawing a blank. I went to WalMart with my roommate Joe and I was told that this could be the cure to all my problems. Something ridiculous about the trip would spark an idea or some sort of rant about life and my life and how it all sucks.

Did anything come up throughout the night? Did WalMart help? Does WalMart ever help? Hell no.

One thing did happen though right after Joe was checking out. I was pacing around the store aimlessly like I always do and I saw him start walking away from the register with his bags. He didn't walk straight to the door though, he veered. I knew something was up when Joe veered. Joe then bent over to pick something up. I then realized what was going on. The summofabitch found a coin on the ground. I walked over to inspect the situation and it turns out he found a shiny new quarter of a trinket. Mixed feelings of anger and regret shot down my spine. Why couldn't I have paced in the other direction? This quarter was pretty damn shinny. I would have seen it on the ground for sure.

Why couldn't it have been a penny? Or even a nickel or a dime? I bet he wouldn't of touched the thing. I know what he would have done. He would have eyed it up, while tucking his receipt away in his wallet, and said something like, "Hey Jon, there's a ____ on the ground." I would have walked over, happy as a puppy chasing a soft new squeeky toy, and picked that fucker right up. There would have been no conflict or regret in the story.

I've been told I am uptight penny-pincher. Not at all.

Fuck you Joe.