“When was the first time you realized you were the only one on earth that…”
Complete that sentence. Today.
The word “sale” is actually an acronym which is genetically bred into women making it unable for them to refuse purchase.
S A L E
Some Eventualities Lose Everything
Seemingly All things Leave me E”y”earning
Soft Approaches Lose Energy
Soothing Advances Less Energy
Some items Attract Loose money Likely
Stop! Advance! Lift! Everything
Spend Ambrosial Liquidity Everyday
Sacrosanct Abundance of Livery Endlessly
The feminine supposition of space is only surpassed by excessive rampant consumerism. Hence, the explosion of storage places available, hence the show “Storage Wars” and that Auction show. Stultifying these moronic viddys purvey plinth of the lowest kind. Not only are these post-consumer guerillas fighting over this detritus, they are turning around and reselling the crapolla to be set up in another Case De Cornucopia.
No “One man’s garbage is another man’s cash”, this is out and out communist tree hugging, Volvo driving, Birkenstock wearing, trash trading. So some “stuff” goes on sale. I buy it. No place to put more “stuff”, so I store some “stuff”. I keep buying more “stuff”. I rent a place to put some “stuff”, then keep buying more “stuff” until I can’t afford the place I keep my extra “stuff”. I lose that “stuff” until I am in a second hand store and see some “stuff” that looks like my “stuff” and I buy it again, “On Sale!” for the second time.
The penumbra of these purchases only bettered by the original travesty. What is the need to see something for just less than what it was? What it would be when? Consumerism is also the father of its own mothers. With buying more for less, and with Ole’ Sammy W. lowering the quality and service components, is it no wonder we need to buy more. We need to replace that which did not last long enough or sustain itself well enough to be a lasting pediment to our existence?
Buy more, sell more, buy more lesser stuff, sell more lesser stuff, down sell crap to lower buyers, build China to a super state not the stupor state it once was. Mao would be rolling in his rickshaw if he saw the putrid poppycock purveyed at these penile emporiums.
Driven to divide the monotheisms of the world to the lowest common penny. Sliver that up till it speaks to the least of all penury farmers of the largest populace on the planet. If you can’t buy it with the producers wage, it’s crap. Hence all but chopsticks made in China is crap!
Hot Amber. Not her, my java!
Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side.
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