Current mood:	sore
Current music:	Pinball Wizard- The Who

I am having a bad week.
The Helenbitch incident on Sunday was just the start of my hell. Yesterday, I had to do work for my community group, (I've started a group for teenaged girls that work against what society thinks is best for them) and I had to get some markers. After calling up target, and finding that the markers I needed were too exspensive, I made the decision to go to Hell On Earth A.K.A Wal-Mart.

God help me...

So, my mother drives me up to Wal-Mart and goes to check out what kind of plants she can save (She grows plants and likes to save the almost dead ones from Wal-mart, Fred Myer, and other such stores)

I went right to the art isle and forgot I was wearing my homemade 'Children= Choice. Think, Women, Think.' shirt. So, as I was searching for my markers (Which were hidden on the bottm shelf), a huge moo with her pack come into the isle. I stand up, finding the package of markers, and this little croutch dropping comes up to me and grabs a hold of my markers. She yells as loud as she can 'Moooooommmmmyyyyyyy! I waaaaannnnttt theseeeee!!!!'

I then say, as kind as I can (She was actually pretty tiny, and kinda cute) 'Sorry, I've got these...' and then, trying to be nice, I try to help the little girl look for another pack of markers (I had just had a Chantico eariler, so I was extremly... uh... peppy. Then lady then sees my shirt and goes, "You really should change your mind."

I look at her and say, "My choice." ... I so wanted to say, "Fat breeder, get yer sproglets outta here."

She then says, "Good girls have babies."

I then begin to laugh, "Good girls have babies. Well, good girls rarely make history."

The little girl then finds her markers and walks over to her factory (I swear to god there are like five other kids in the isle) and says 'Mooooommmmmmyyyyy I waaaaaannnnttttt thhhhiiiiissss onnnnnneeeeee!'

The fat breeder then looks at me, sneers, and walks back out of the isle, followed by her little semen demons.

So I go to find my Mom, and I get stopped along the way...

The cause, a video game magazine (I would like to tell you, right here and now, that I am a huge nerd.)

Another breeder, this time with two little fat boys, finds a 'mothers' magazine and then begins to read it. I then hear a crash from behind me and it turns out that the youngest of her little booger factories has pushed over a CD display. I wince to myself, and the lady -get this- looks at me.

So I say, "That sounded bad."

She says, "Oh, you should of seen it when they were in Safeway. They were so cute. Little Tylor knocked over a pop display."

I say, "Ummm... your child could get hurt. I'd go get him."

So she belts out, "TYLOR, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!!" And over ocmes stumbling the little sproglet, crying. He says that a store clerk scolded him (well, he said something like 'he yelled at me') for knocking over the CD case. The older sproglet comes careening down the magazine asile holding some sort of water gun toy. He then shoves it in the fat breeders face and yells "MOM I WANT THIS!!!!"

So the mom says that he can get it and the little monster starts HITTING HIS BROTHER WITH IT. The mother then proceeds to read her magazine again and I'm so disgusted that I don't stick around.

But my quest to find my mother was not over. I had to stop and get some earplugs for our upcoming camping trip (My dad snores and it annoys the hell out of me) and so while I was picking those up, I watched as ANOTHER LITTLE CROTCH DROPPING ran past me and tripped over my foot. I was kneeling on the floor (I hurt myself in a dirtbiking accident a few years ago and I have a very bad back. I can only get down by kneeling.) and he just tripped over my foot area. His head goes 'WHAM' on the floor and he begins to bawl his eyes out.

Red neck Mommy #3 -clad in a tiny shirt that failed to cover he massive bump and short shorts- is following the sound of her son. I try to help the kid up (Damn my softheart) and she cracks me across the back of the head.

So I go (Whoopsie) , "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Then the lady kicks me in the back. She starts screaming at me for hurting her son.

Of course, my already hurting back is now screaming with unholy pain. I begin to cry... I mean, serisouly cry. The lady orders me to get up and I can't because of my back. Then, a store clerk, hearing the commotion, pushes his way past the now growing crowd of people and asks what happend.

So skank mom goes, "This girl hurt my son! Then she swore at me!"

The clerk (Who looked quite nice, but a little frazzled.) says, "So why is she crying?"

The lady then goes, "Because I hit her. She deserved it."

I struggled to say, "She kicked my back... I hurt it."

When I was in my acciddent, I hurt my back by flipping over and hitting a tree. The dirtbike was pressed against my stomach and I was in a sharp angle, my foot was somewhere near my face. I had to go into surgery, and my back can still not take any punishment. I haven't been able to do any P.E for the past couple of years and even the lightest slap on my back makes it hurt.

The clerk the tries to help me up and he moves me the wrong way. I let out a huge, hellspawn type screech that makes me sound like a four-year-old wanting candy. I can't get up. So the clerk tells another worker to go get a phone and dial for the ambulance. The lady then begins to tell a sob story about how her little Jeffery was just playfully running along when I purposly tripped him. I try to say something but I know that I can't. I'm in too much pain.

So the other clerk returns and in a few moments, the ambulance arrives and they get me onto a stretcher.

All in all, my Mom finnaly found me and they got me some good pain medicine. God, I am STILL sore. Mom is going to press charges again the lady.

I really, really, really hate breeders now.