So, many of you may know of FreshDirect.com, an online grocery store that ships your foodies right to your door. (Check that rhyme, niggas) I had a thought today in the shower, where most of my good ideas come from: open a discounted version of that store that sells food either on or just after its expiration date called StaleAndItTakesAWhile.com. C'mon, you know you've eaten food past its exp date. I do. That's why my immune system could devour a horse mid-stride. Hooves and all.
Hit the Target at Atlantic-Pacific last night and got a few things:
1. Best of Chris Farley on DVD
2. Bill Cosby - Himself on DVD
3. Avril Lavigne - Under My Skin (went halvsies with Maria on that one)
4. Velvet Revolver - Contraband (gotta have 'Fall to Pieces')
I also noticed how New Yorkers view mass retail outlets like Target and Wal-Mart as such a novelty. Their sheer consumerism appeal is as irresistable as a shiny button is to an ostrich. Apparently the shopping gene is even more prevalent in black people, or they have more people to shop for. Not sure which. I know they sell condoms there, or somewhere around there, and these people should consider the option, as many screaming bratty kids as I saw there.
All in all, going to Target is a lot like going to the zoo. There are lots of little screaming critters and things that don't get out of your way when you clearly need to get by. I'm not sure I like going there. No, in fact, I AM sure I DON'T like going there. It doesn't help that, since Target here attracts the same clientele as Big Lots back in Ohio, the store is often in total disarray. Their selection of CDs was pretty unimpressive, too. I'm relegating my entertainment needs to either Best Buy or the Virgin Megastore up in Union Square. Good lord, these people.
MY NEXT HORRIBLE THOUGHT!
So they decided to halt appeals on the Terry Schiavo case today. It's Easter. Wouldn't it be fucked up if she died today and came back from the dead tomorrow as like the First Horseman or something? Sitting atop a decaying steed, wide-brimmed hat perched atop her head, six-shooters on each hip, blinking angrily at me...that'd restore my faith pretty quickly. And yes, I'm going to hell for even joking about this. See ya there, and bring marshmallows!