So, there has to be a devil hanging about my face.
So I'm at the mall, right? And I'm just walking around, right? To the food court, to be specific - I need to get my eat on after a hard day's shopping with my gee eff at some clothes store (I'm wore out as hell, let ME tell YOU) and I just get this look, right? A look that tells me I've been doing some dirty deeds somewhere between genocide and jerking it in public. Something between worldwide social unacceptance to happy little America social unacceptance. And it's on everyone's face. Not just the six year old girl who is probably just making the face because she shit herself, not the dude sitting at a table playing Magic: The Gathering making the face because his opponent just brought out a 6/6 with flying, and not the old man turning to look and scowl at how low a wigger's pants are.
Like, everyone. And their pupils are following me like I'm magnetic north. Ellen seems oblivious, but I've caught on to this whole conspiracy to make me feel that I've done something wrong. She's looking at another store - something like Wet Rouge or Forever Old Navy or something like that - just kind of window shopping, chilling, and having a good, relaxing day (goddamn I love her to death/an actually REASONABLE girl for once/although it's a given that she falls prey to the whole mall thing/I couldn't ask for anything better than her). She's having a great time, so why should no one else? What's with this stink eye squared that's slapping me all over the place? Am I Osama Bin Laden with amnesia or something?
Goddamn these people. I'm trying to think of ho
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