So I was cashing a long line of people out today and this couple notices that the woman behind them is in a motorized cart.

Couple: “Do you need help putting your things on the belt?”
Woman: “I’m not handicapped, I’m just lazy.”

At this point my blood starts to boil. We all know that a lot of our customers use the motorized carts because they are lazy or fat, but to hear someone admit it- ugh. It’s like using a handicapped parking spot because you’re too lazy to walk.

Another couple gets into line behind the woman. 

Couple: “Do you need help getting your bags?”
Woman: “I’m not handicapped, I’m just lazy. I didn’t feel like walking around the store. Ha ha.”

I don’t know if I should be pissed that she thinks she’s entitled to something that she’s not during the busiest shopping hour of the week, happy that there are still decent human beings out there willing to help others, or ashamed of myself for wishing something did happen to harm her, only to have no motorized carts left to use.

What has happened to humanity?

Anonymous said: Everything okay? You haven't posted much and I miss your stories. Are you done with the fandom?

Okay is a pretty relative term, so let’s just say that I’ve had a lot on my metaphorical plate this past month (moving, major changes at work, dealing with my ED) so I haven’t taken the time to sit down and indulge myself.
Despite a lack of cable, meaning I have to scrounge around for episodes on my beau’s slow internet, I am not leaving the fandom. Last episode made me squeal and bounce like a small child. In fact, I wrote a oneshot today. Go check it out!

My Milk Broke

Some people deserve a high five to the face…others a low five to the balls.
So I was watching Bob’s Burgers earlier, and I noticed that all their noses look like smiley faces…
I cannot unsee this.

So I was watching Bob’s Burgers earlier, and I noticed that all their noses look like smiley faces…

I cannot unsee this.

Matt Smith does the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge (X)

The hollow victory of a hollow face
licking air off your fingers
and cheese dust off your memories
where the crumbs on your shirt
are remnants of personality.
Where chocolate is just a color
and greens are merely food
that you nibble off the plate.
Where butter is a slip of tongue,
less one t,
add the comma,
and bathroom scales read like golf cards,
lower equals better,
lower means you win.
Except you never win,
save for the hollow victory
of that hollow face.
Bliss gone six feet under
as it drowns in salty tears
from your skeleton above.
The silver spoon has rusted
and the only thing you’ll eat is your words.
God bless your broken soul.
Lord knows I’ve tried.
An awkward, blunt, sarcastic control freak aiming for that impossible standard of happiness, by simultaneously living in a world of idealized fiction and the broken truth.

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