Sold Out

I totally swiped this from the lovely Tina over at Tina's TwiObsession because I had never seen it before. Thank you Tina!!

Did I mention Melainii and Steffi's new blog, Hype?

Speaking of blogs, I am doing a terrible job of keeping up. Please @ me those links as you update or I may never make it there. Yes, I can be that big of an idiot. I've seen me do it.

Now I'm going to tell you about my craptastic weekend mostly because I just need to rant about it a little. It's a long story and I don't come off so good in it, but I'm telling it anyway.

On Friday night I go to my friendly neighborhood Wal-Mart, only to find that the whole world has gone mad. Some little kid ran over my foot with a shopping cart. I got shocked every time I touched one of the shelves. Some dude in spandex pants and cowboy boots winked at me. I waited at the deli counter forever and a day for someone to come dish me up some of that cream cheese and jalapeno fried goodness, but no one ever came. Then, I head back to the magazine rack and panic sets in. *shakes head sadly* Sold Out!

Not to be deterred, I head to Target, where it starts pouring rain just as I get out of the car. Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way. I walk up in that bitch and everything has been moved. What the fuck? I just learned where everything was from the last time they did this shit! I stand at the doors feeling like Helen Keller must have felt about moved furniture before I start aimlessly wondering around. I finally give up and just ask someone where the fucking magazines and books are when this little punk, who can't keep his pants up, rolls his eyes at me and points down the main aisle. Thanks dillhole, that was so fucking helpful. I finally find the rack and despair washes over me. Sold Out!

I wake up Saturday morning with a million things to do and still no Robazines. In the middle of the half million things I was able to accomplish, I also stopped at three different stores to look for my beloved all to no avail. Sold out, everywhere I went. Heartbroken and a tad bitchy, I call itsjusther to complain. She has the nerve to ask me, "if you have those pics on the computer, why do you need the magazine?" I hung up on her and wrote her out of the will.

Pic stolen from Pilineasalways.

I wake up Sunday morning with a slight hangover and a wild look of determination in my eyes. I get on the phone and after 6 phone calls and being put on hold 11 times, I found it at Books-A-Million. A three hour drive from my house. Damnit Rob, what are you doing to me? Ok, I forgive you, let's have make-up sex!

Source

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip. I took the three hour tour and got behind every Sunday driving, old bastard on the interstate. I get to the store, finally and a woman who I will go to my grave swearing was the debil tells me that they are sold out! I smiled and looked around. I'm being punk'd right? She didn't smile. No candid camera. No Ashton. Slowly, the gravity of this situations descends and I start wondering if there are matches in the car. Through clenched teeth, I mutter, "fuck" and she jumps back away from me like she's afraid I'm gonna kick her guts out and I'm considering it...

I took a few deep breaths and did what Rob would do. I gave her the evil eye, shoved my hands in my pockets and stalked out the door. I drive all the way home in a state of livid that I have never known. Road rage took on a whole new dimension. I get home and itsjusther is there, to make peace (get back in the will) she brought me New Moon Movie Companion, but still no Precious Sexy Star of New Moon. *sad face*

Don't fight it, I will get you just like those other US Weekly lovlies. You'll like it here. I will be so good to you.

For listening to me bitch, your .gifs.