Age by Wal-Mart

[mommiedearestx3]

You are in the middle of some kind of project around the house mowing the lawn, putting a new fence in, painting the living room, or whatever. You are hot and sweaty, covered in dirt or paint. You have your old work clothes on. You know the outfit - shorts with the hole in crotch, old T-shirt with a stain from who knows what, and an old pair of tennis shoes. Right in the middle of this great home improvement project you realize you need to run to Wal-Mart to get something to help complete the job.

Depending on your age you might do the following:

In your 20's:

Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush your teeth, floss, and put on clean clothes. Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne because you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane. You went to school with the pretty girl running the register.

In your 30's:

Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change shoes. You married the hot chick so no need for much else. Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still got it. Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell. The cute girl running the register is the kid sister to someone you went to school with.

In your 40's:

Stop what you are doing. Put a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover the hole in the crotch of your shorts. Put on different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brute Cologne is almost empty so you don't want to waste any of it on a trip to Wal-Mart. Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing. The spicy young thing running the register is your daughter's age and you feel weird thinking she is spicy.

In your 50's:

Stop what you are doing. Put a hat on, wipe the dirt off your hands onto your shirt. Change shoes because you don't want to get dirt in your new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and you swear not to wear that shirt anymore because it makes you look fat. The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you still have it. Then you remember the hat you have on is from Buddy's Bait & Beer Bar and it says, "I Got Worms."

In your 60's:

Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat anymore. Hose the dog shit off your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50's. You hope you have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole in you pants. The girl running the register may be cute, but you don't have your glasses on so you are not sure.

In your 70's:

Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Wal-Mart until they have your prescriptions ready, too. Don't even notice the dog shit on your shoes. The young thing at the register smiles at you because you remind her of her grandfather.

In your 80's:

Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember you needed to go to Wal-Mart. Go to Wal-Mart and wander around trying to think what it is you are looking for. Fart out loud and you think someone called out your name. You went to school with the old lady who greeted you at the front door

[Made in the USA]

[hoarsewhisperer]

I LOVE IT!!!!


warning tho...be prepared for the onslaught from Wal-Mart haters ;)

[K C Muffin]

Reminds me of something circulated over Email this week (and probably before that, too) about farts after eating home made chili. Tears rolled down my face in the 3rd paragraph. And it got funnier as it went.

[meadmice]

Reminds me of something circulated over Email this week (and probably before that, too) about farts after eating home made chili. Tears rolled down my face in the 3rd paragraph. And it got funnier as it went.

I got that one too, oh my god I thought I'd fall over laughing!

[Made in the USA]

SOOOOOOOOOOOO! Is anyone going to post it for the rest of us??

[hoarsewhisperer]

soooooooooooo! Is Anyone Going To Post It For The Rest Of Us??

This One?

Frank: "recently, I Was Honored To Be Selected As A Judge At A Chili Cooking Contest. The Original Person Called In Sick At The Last Moment And I Happened To Be Standing There At The Judge's Table Asking For Directions To The Coors Light Truck, When The Call Came In. I Was Assured By The Other Two Judges (native Texans) That The Chili Wouldn't Be All That Spicy And, Besides, They Told Me I Could Have Free Beer During The Tasting, So I Accepted." Here Are The Scorecards From The Advent:

(frank Judge #3)

Chili # 1 Eddie's Maniac Monster Chili...
Judge # 1 --! A Little Too Heavy On The Tomato. Amusing Kick.

Judge # 2 -- Nice, Smooth Tomato Flavor. Very Mild.

Judge # 3 -- (frank) What The Hell Is This Stuff?! You Could Remove Dried Paint From Your Driveway. Took Me Two Beers To Put Out The Flames. I Hope That's The Worst One. These Texans Are Crazy!


Chili # 2 Austin's Afterburner Chili...

Judge # 1 -- Smoky, With A Hint Of Pork. Slight Jalapeno Tang.

Judge # 2 -- Exciting Bbq Flavor; Needs More Peppers To Be Taken Seriously.

Judge # 3 -- Keep This Out Of The Reach Of Children. I'm Not Sure What I'm Supposed To Taste Besides Pain. I Had To Wave Off Two People Who Wanted To Give Me The Heimlich Maneuver. They Had To Rush In More Beer When They Saw The Look On My Face.


Chili # 3 Ronny's Famous Burn Down The Barn Chili...

Judge # 1 -- Excellent Firehouse Chili. Great Kick. Needs More Beans.

Judge # 2 -- A Beanless Chili, A Bit Salty, Good Use Of Peppers.

Judge # 3 -- Call The Epa. I've Located A Uranium Spill. My Nose Feels Like I Have Been Snorting Drano. Everyone Knows The Routine By Now.
Get Me More Beer Before I Ignite. Barmaid Pounded Me On The Back, Now My Backbone Is In The Front Part Of My Chest. I'm Getting Pie-eyed From All Of The Beer...

Chili # 4 Dave's Black Magic...

Judge # 1 -- Black Bean Chili With Almost No Spice. Disappointing.

Judge # 2 -- Hint Of Lime In The Black Beans. Good Side Dish For Fish, Or Other Mild Foods; Not Much Of A Chili.

Judge # 3 -- I Felt Something Scraping Across My Tongue, But Was Unable To Taste It. Is It Possible To Burn Out Taste Buds? Sally, The Barmaid, Was Standing Behind Me With Fresh Refills. That 300-lb. Woman Is Starting To Look Hot...just Like This Nuclear Waste I'm Eating! Is Chili An Aphrodisiac?

Chili # 5 Lisa's Legal Lip Remover...

Judge # 1 -- Meaty, Strong Chili. Cayenne Peppers Freshly Ground, Adding Considerable Kick. Very Impressive.

Judge # 2 -- Chili Using Shredded Beef, Could Use More Tomato. Must Admit The Cayenne ! Peppers Make A Strong Statement.

Judge # 3 -- My Ears Are Ringing, Sweat Is Pouring Off My Forehead, And I Can No Longer Focus My Eyes. I Farted And Four People Behind Me Needed Paramedics. The Contestant Seemed Offended When I Told Her That Her Chili Had Given Me Brain Damage. Sally Saved My Tongue From Bleeding By Pouring Beer Directly On It From The Pitcher. I Wonder If I'm Burning My Lips Off. It Really Pisses Me Off That The Other Judges Asked Me To Stop Screaming. Screw Those Rednecks.


Chili # 6 Pam's Very Vegetarian Variety...

Judge # 1 -- Thin, Yet Bold Vegetarian Variety Chili. Good Balance Of Spices And Peppers.

Judge # 2 -- The Best Yet. Aggressive Use Of Peppers, Onions, A! Nd Garlic. Superb.

Judge # 3 -- My Intestines Are Now A Straight Pipe Filled With Gaseous, Sulphuric Flames. I Pooped On Myself When I Farted And I'm Worried It Will Eat Through The Chair! No One Seems Inclined To Stand Behind Me Anymore. I Need To Wipe My Butt With A Snow Cone.

Chili # 7 Carla's Screaming Sensation Chili...

Judge # 1 -- A Mediocre Chili With Too Much Reliance On Canned Peppers.

Judge # 2 -- Ho-hum; Tastes As If The Chef Literally Threw In A Can Of Chili Peppers At The Last Moment. **i Should Take Note That I Am Worried About Judge # 3. He Appears To Be In A Bit Of Distress, As He Is Cursing Uncontrollably.

Judge # 3 -- You Could Put A Grenade In My Mouth, Pull The Pin, And I Wouldn't Feel A Thing. I've Lost Sight In One Eye, And The World Sounds Like It Is Made Of Rushing Water. My Shirt Is Covered With Chili, Which Slid Unnoticed Out Of My Mouth. My Pants Are Full Of Lava To Match My Shirt. At Least During The Autopsy, They'll Know What Killed Me.
I've Decided To Stop Breathing; It's Too Painful. Screw It; I'm Not Getting Any Oxygen Anyway. If I Need Air, I'll Just Suck It In Through The 4-inch Hole In My Stomach.

Chili # 8 Karen's Toenail Curling Chili...

Judge # 1 -- The Perfect Ending, This Is A Nice Blend Chili. Not Too Bold, But Spicy Enough To Declare Its Existence.

Judge # 2 -- This Final Entry Is A Good, Balanced ! Chili. Neither Mild, Nor Hot. Sorry To See That Most Of It Was Lost When Judge # 3 Farted, Passed Out, Fell Over, And Pulled The Chili Pot Down On Top Of Himself.
Not Sure If He's Going To Make It. Poor Fella, Wonder How He'd Have Reacted To Really Hot Chili?"

Judge # 3 -- Oh God.........

[hoarsewhisperer]

?? or

Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to
eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls.
The next day I went to shop at Kroger's.I can't say anymore about
that because we are in court over the whole matter.

Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the store..

[jeezeweeze]

"Judge # 3 -- My Intestines Are Now A Straight Pipe Filled With Gaseous, Sulphuric Flames. I Pooped On Myself When I Farted And I'm Worried It Will Eat Through The Chair! No One Seems Inclined To Stand Behind Me Anymore. I Need To Wipe My Butt With A Snow Cone."

[K C Muffin]

No, not that one....this must be the prologue:

I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that
course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had
prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day
both of your cheeks WILL fall off.

Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of
coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No "Watson's
Movement 2". Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my
intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning
symphony referred to by my next door neighbors a s thunder and lightning.

Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, I
bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often
haunt in search of tasty tidbits.

Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and
began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was
at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me.
Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm
referring to that "Uh oh, gotta go" pain that always seems to hit us at the
wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.

The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a
mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines,
forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one
step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it
happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a
noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was
afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly,
oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I
began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly woman turned
into it.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction
would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she
walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different
directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at
least will be able to relate.

I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked
into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible
that all she could do before gathering her senses and running , was to stand
there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward
off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me
laugh. Mistake.

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things "clamped down",
if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth
from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a
few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the
store and firing off a shotgun.

Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off through
the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying
that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.



Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the
inevitable "Oh my God", floating above the toilet seat because my *** is
burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle
of what is the true meaning of "Shock and Awe". He made a gagging sound, and
disgustedly said, "Sonofa gun ", then quickly left.



Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart
intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me
and said, "Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears
some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to
run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of
the problem."



That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The
employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose
and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, "IT'S YOU!", then ran off
returning moments later with the man ager. I was unceremoniously escorted
from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.



Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat
but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to
shop at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court
over the whole matter. They claim they're going to have to repaint the
store..