Store-y Time!

I just got back from the grocery store where I had to purchase toilet paper, shampoo, and a gallon of milk.

If I was a clerk at the grocery story, I would make up a story about the people that go through the Express Line based upon what they purchase.

For instance, in my case, I would be severely lactose intolerant. So lactose intolerant (or, as my friend Ryan likes to say, 'not lactose tolerant') that I needed to buy a 24 pack of toilet paper because things were about to get messy. The fog of feces and half-digested milk would be so thick, so stew-like in the bathroom that my hair would stink of it afterward.

The guy in front of me was buying Axe Body Spray. That was the only thing he had on the conveyer belt sandwiched between two separators promoting the election of a local congressman. But, this guy's story didn't end there. He also asked the grocer for a pack of Marlboro Reds, hard pack. Now things were getting interesting. Obviously this fellow was so self-conscious about how his smoking made him smell that he wanted to be able to cover it up with the cologne that apparently makes any woman a dick-chafing nymphomaniac. I should be the guy in charge of ads for Axe Body Spray. Anyway, then the guy asked for $40 cash back. Now the story is complete. This guy is going to get a hooker and hope that she finds him so irresistible thanks to his forboding scent that he doesn't have to pay, but just in case, he's ready with the $40.

The old man behind me was buying what looked like 2 bottles of Fifth Avenue Seltzer. Don't ask me where he got them from because I thought that they discontinued it about ten years ago, but that's what it looked like he had. His story is that he's a man from the future who was so obsessed with Fifth Avenue Seltzer that he spent his entire life building a time machine just so he could spend one more evening with the Crystal Pepsi of its generation.

A time traveler, a John, and me, a not lactose tolerant man who spews diarrheac (the adjective form of diarrhea) mist from his anus. I am Shitstorm and with the help of a scientist hooked on beverages from decades past and a smoker with a penchant for getting freebies from streetwalkers, we travel through time and hearts defeating evil and injustice wherever it stands.

Two Guys, A Guy, And a Time Machine coming next fall to CBS.

Interesting thought of the day:
Volcanoes are Mother Nature's genital warts.