Friday, September 04, 2009

Did You Know...

That they don't sell surge protectors at Costco? Neither did I, until this afternoon when I went down there.

So, anyhow, the week of living frugally is over--all the bills are paid, I've got money in the pocket again, and if I had hair, I could afford to let it down... The first item on the agenda, once my business at the bank was transacted, was to head to Costco and fill up my gas tank ($2.57 a gallon there, about 12 cents less than most other places here in Hendertucky). Since I was already at Costco, with a pocket full of cash, I decided to do a little shopping. Actually, there were only two things on the shopping list, 1) a surge protector, and 2) razor blades.

I looked all over for a surge protector, even asking the employees who were lurking around the electronics area, but it was to no avail. I was told they didn't sell them anymore. Hmmm... But while I was searching around, I saw a kick-ass clock radio that had an iPod dock for only $29.99. Well, I thought it was only thirty bucks, but as I went to pick it up, I noticed that the price tag was for the stuff on the shelf below it. The clock radio was actually eighty bucks.

Umm, no, I think I'll pass.

I kept looking. I wandered for a bit, and on my way over to the toiletries area, a large plastic jar of whole cashews somehow made it into my cart. But I eventually got my razor blades, a big pack of twenty Mach 3 Turbos for forty bucks. Shiat--I hate paying for razor blades, but what's a brotha with a smooth dome to do? I hate paying for cable TV, too, but my ass likes to watch football and documentaries, so there.

I wandered around a bit more, avoiding the bottlenecks, (Seriously people, you're lining up and clogging the aisles for a free bite of mac-and-cheese? WTF?), and wishing that I'd brought my glasses with me. Memo to self: Never again go shopping at Costco without your glasses--you can't see shiat. Oh, there was a lot of stuff to buy, that's for sure, but after my disappointment last week, I wasn't going to give any of their crappy-assed coffee tables a second look, and I guess I was harboring a little bitterness about the absence of surge protectors, too.

At some point, I realized that if I stayed in there for any length of time, I'd end up going broke again, buying a lot of shiat I really didn't need. So I called it quits and ended up going to the check out line with just four items in my cart--razor blades, a jar of cashews, a bottle of vanilla, and a six-pack of canned chicken meat. Still cost me $72, though. Apparently I didn't spend enough, because they wouldn't even give me an empty cardboard box to put my stuff in, the cheap bastards. Avoiding the temptation of the oh-my-god good dollar-fifty Polish dog and 20 oz. Coke special, I headed straight for the door, getting home just in time for the kickoff to the 2009 college football season.

Holy shiat it's been a long six months without football. I have missed it dearly. And it's good for business too, because even though the sports book is open all year, it's usually a fairly sedate place except for the Kentucky Derby and such. But now that football is back, there will be no empty seats on the weekends. And you know what sits right next to the sports book in most casinos? The poker room! Trickle down economics, baby. Football season is here, and it's time to get paid.

I'm working again tonight, and if it goes as well as the past couple of nights, I'll probably call the suckers of Cox on Friday and order the ESPN Game Plan package for the season. I can't get DirecTV for the Sunday Ticket, but with so many college games each Saturday, it would suck having to watch the morons in the Big 10 play their cupcake schedules while I can have every SEC game available for just a few dollars more. And I have heard it said that the good lord Himself prefers to watch the SEC over all other conferences.

And speaking of ESPN, it's about time that somebody there looked into Lou Holtz's prescriptions. I think he may be overmedicating, predicting Notre Dame to go to the national championship game... I don't know why they wheel that doddering old fool out of the home every weekend and put him on TV. He'd look much less foolish if he just stayed back in the community room, fingerpainting with his own poo.


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