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#walmart
There once was a fella who farted A **** that was only half-hearted: His friend tried to best him And really impressed him By ******** a brick when he sharted.
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Mar 14
Mar 14, 2026 at 7:23 AM UTC
In the Checkout Line at Walmart
I went to Walmart this morning - yes, it was very brave. My dander was up - I was on high alert - for active shooters and the unmasked. Then I saw him! A man on the cookie aisle - he looked like he had the monkeypox! So I kicked him in the nuts and ran - you can’t be too careful out there. It turns out that he was just an 80-year-old retiree wearing a polka-dot shirt. I apologized - from a safe distance - as the paramedics carted him away. It felt like a close call.
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May 25, 2022
May 25, 2022 at 10:10 AM UTC
monkeypox
I sat unbuckled sipping my drink looking at him Taking in his features as the street lights go dim His floppy blonde hair and straight white teeth I liked what I saw, but I want what's underneath The thoughtful comment about having a good night A random call because I'm crossing his mind In reality it will be over soon because school will end We will move away and on to a new more-than-friend I'll get a job and he will chase a dream The only time I'll see him is when I daydream I'll call once in a while to hear his voice Making time to hangout won't be my choice He will be busy with new people and video games I'll be distracted working learning my clients names It hasn't yet ended, but I feel the shadow of fate above I don't want to like him, let alone start to love Yet, I know the latter will happen only from afar When I'm old and famous I'll write of him in my memoir Once my kids are asking me for stories about boys I'll slip into memories and their voices will become white noise Thinking back to the night I sat and stared at him All while knowing I was drowning trying to swim As I sat unbuckled sipping my drink I wished I had sipped enough not to think
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Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 1:36 AM UTC
Sip
Wal-Mart at 12 a.m. is almost eerie. Silent save the occasional shopper or manager, Perhaps following you to ensure you don't do anything foolish. Picking out the dumbest things just because you need to smile. Playing with your friend in the toys, letting go for once, Just to be chased away by management. Losing one of the squad and looking for her. Wandering over to the makeup, glancing at the camera, Then picking out what you want and pocketing it an aisle over. Going to the arcade and winning for once. It's not a secret, you needed a win, Plus your little sibling will love the new stuffed toy. Seeing a random family member. Rushing away as to remain unseen, Knowing if your parents find out you will be dead. The general feeling of disassociated contentedness when you finally leave. You won't remember half of what happened anyway, But who cares. Shopping at night is the best.
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 12:37 AM UTC
Night Shopping
Walmart on a Sunday evening Feels like my brain At 4 am Every thought looks well made Until I hold them And feel the lack of substance And then I realize How many people I let in That only came for something to do
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May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 12:42 AM UTC
Consumer
i’ve been told many times that my eyes are the color of the ocean. just like my mom’s eyes. the color of the sky after a rain storm, young flowers, a little lighter than the blue on a walmart bag, a worn jean jacket. i think i like ocean the best- i miss it the most.
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Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 11:17 PM UTC
blue eyes
and the truly talented ones eclipsed his paltry writes which engendered in him a want to disappear their rites the green eye of jealousy was constantly gnawing at him why he asked unto himself are they more superior of trim people who knew a fine pick would shun his dreadful pap they sought out authors who wore the praise worthy cap he couldn't match the greater pens that did show so well to whit he bought off the head bloke with a sizeable money shell to-day he's the so called genius of expressionistic art whose popularity on culture plus is like a sale at Walmart
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Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 6:33 PM UTC
Sale At Walmart
We climb power lines and play Titanic. We go to parties, but only for the free food. We sneak out to people watch at Walmart. We're the whirlwind couple everyone dreams about. We're what they don't show in movies.
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Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
we're the brad and angelina of the suburbs.
An international wire transfer was made last Monday. 2,000 dollars were sent to China from America. I expected the money would arrive in China in 2 days. Like, how it takes 2 days for my yearly 35,000-dollar tuition To be sent from China to America.      I continued my week as usual. I went to Aldi, a German company, To get some groceries. It was fast and cheap with good-quality products.      I went to Walmart, an American company, To get more groceries. I waited in line for 30 minuets. It was slow and cheap with known-brand products.      That international wire transfer made last Monday, Still wasn’t received on next Monday. It went through an intermediate American bank, Because my bank itself doesn’t do international transactions. My money is still on its way to China from America.
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Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 6:31 PM UTC
American Speed
if i make a poem out of iphones, people will actually start taking a liking to the forgotten form. i can make every phone sing with a new hit song at the perfect time as your eyes glance over them while they offer you a new promotion to go with your completed poem line. and as you are thinking about the confusing symbolism between a flea and blood, you can also get 50% off your next purchase at Target.
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Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
maybe
in the small town land marked by it's single gas station, teens skateboard through the Walmart 15 minutes away smoke cigarettes in the baseball field of their high school rival spend Friday nights at waffle house after football games the hospital near Walmart is being closed down history replaced by churches and banks patriotism and school pride is sewn into the school t-shirts a memorial for the boys who drove drunk and died it's a community built on family values, everyone recounts their blessings and after years of collective prayer He even bestowed upon that town a Dollar General
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Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
You Belong Here
Hi-fructose drama-nation (AKA Plebeia Ovulation-Jones), clad in a rumpled football shirt and golden sweatpants, rolled her bovine eyes, burped, then plunged into battle in the Walmart parking lot. Overweightia U.S, looking on, gestured rudely while blabbing on her phone.  America herself, standing by, talked loudly, swiveling her fat neck around with a menacing gesticulation involving her two-and-a-half-inch poisonous green fake fingernails studded with tiny rhinestones in the shape of well-known designer logos. Witnesses claimed that the altercation started when America could not find her own thong, which was lost between mountains of cellulite-rippled sweaty rolls of flesh. Splendor Obeeze, her BFF, trying to get America away from the fight scene, mooed like a feral heifer, then barked at her ex, who proceeded to taunt her while filming with his I-phone:       Woo ooh-ooh baby Ima get wit chu den do like u cause we rollin, rollin... Plebeia suddenly snarled at her 3 year-old daughter strapped into a car seat to *leave her **** alone* and then re-entered the store where she proceeded to sing to herself in the brassiere section until she bumped into her 4th toddler's baby-daddy who was mumbling into his thick beard RE tha lightweight herb he smoked wif his boy as he checked his text messages for  the freestyle lyrics by "L'il Murgatroid". The entire affair ended badly when Plebeia spilled corn-dog flavored popsicle powder all over America's thong-retrieval device. WW IV warning apps were triggered. They beeped, were ignored, failed and then were deleted. No one shouted World Staaar—u see dat? Oh shiiiittt !! Plebeia O-J was oblivious, in any case, and strode boldly into the Walmart pharmacy section as the predatory drones prophesied in Revelation were released from the bottomless pit by Abaddon, Lord of destruction. Fabulously overweight as well, I was, nonetheless, underwhelmed by the thong itself, when it was finally retrieved from the depths of America's rumpled sweatpants, on the buttocks of which was emblazoned the final terrible message:  PINK UNIVERSITY BITE ME.
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Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 12:45 PM UTC
Plebeia Ovulation-Jones takes on America @ Walmart
Hi-fructose drama-nation (AKA Plebeia Ovulation-Jones), clad in a rumpled football shirt and golden sweatpants, rolled her bovine eyes, burped, then plunged into battle in the Walmart parking lot. Overweightia U.S, looking on, gestured rudely while blabbing on her phone.  America herself, standing by, talked loudly, swiveling her fat neck around with a menacing gesticulation involving her two-and-a-half-inch poisonous green fake fingernails studded with tiny rhinestones in the shape of well-known designer logos. Witnesses claimed that the altercation started when America could not find her own thong, which was lost between mountains of cellulite-rippled sweaty rolls of flesh. Splendor Obeeze, her BFF, trying to get America away from the fight scene, mooed like a feral heifer, then barked at her ex, who proceeded to taunt her while filming with his I-phone:       Woo ooh-ooh baby Ima get wit chu den do like u cause we rollin, rollin... Plebeia suddenly snarled at her 3 year-old daughter strapped into a car seat to *leave her **** alone* and then re-entered the store where she proceeded to sing to herself in the brassiere section until she bumped into her 4th toddler's baby-daddy who was mumbling into his thick beard RE tha lightweight herb he smoked wif his boy as he checked his text messages for  the freestyle lyrics by "L'il Murgatroid". The entire affair ended badly when Plebeia spilled corn-dog flavored popsicle powder all over America's thong-retrieval device. WW IV warning apps were triggered. They beeped, were ignored, failed and then were deleted. No one shouted World Staaar—u see dat? Oh shiiiittt !! Plebeia O-J was oblivious, in any case, and strode boldly into the Walmart pharmacy section as the predatory drones prophesied in Revelation were released from the bottomless pit by Abaddon, Lord of destruction. Fabulously overweight as well, I was, nonetheless, underwhelmed by the thong itself, when it was finally retrieved from the depths of America's rumpled sweatpants, on the buttocks of which was emblazoned the final terrible message:  PINK UNIVERSITY BITE ME.
Continue reading...
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By: David W. Clare When it comes to shopping here's your key! Don't bother walking Targets aisle number three... There is no competition anywhere! Whether you need a loaf of bread, tools or underwear... Walmart is around every corner just for you! 24 hours and a dozen smiles easy to see... Prices so low; it's all almost free! Toasters, fans, beds, loafers, bikes... Clean bathrooms open up for you all day and night... Walmart offers parking under a big spot light! Friendly attendants will treat you right... The best security anywhere around! Why bother shopping at any other place in town? Crock Pots over on aisle 17! ...the best way to save money I've ever seen! Walmart, Walmart! Now you're shopping smart! Your right at Home at Walmart ! (C) In perpetuity all rights reserved (P) FilmNoirWorks
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Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 8:56 PM UTC
The Walmart Poem
Saw thousands of hues Advertised words and colors abused By the faceless who sell us happiness In overpriced shoes, orchestrated cues Service with a smile imbued But all in fact bruises, silk nooses On susceptible brains, adolescent misuses Of maturity delayed, adulthood paused all a massive stifling ruse, thus lighting my fuse
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May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
Commercial Ruse
Hi, ** Hi, ** It's off to work I go. Chewing on some coffee grounds and choking down my smokes. Hi, ** Hi, ** It's time to start the show. I'll attach a cordial mask and leave my brain at home. Hi, ** Hi, ** Oh say it isn't so. This place will be the death of me and then they'll work my bones.
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Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
Hi, **
Two-daughters succession go astride One hunched in apathy The other in defeat I could have seen beauty in progeny Before it was Crushed By artificial gravity Smelling of blood-stained pittances And a taker’s philosophy, Their lunch-box notions And plastic dreams Rattled the bars on a shopping cart. Do they, I wonder, Feel their ease at pain? Or luxury, woe? Though their smiling faces Were promised, now reach To Paradise, I can seem them Crushed Beneath them, too: Updated, upgraded, brand-spanking new All they ever hoped to be, Customized Head-to-fucking-toe.
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Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC
Taker's Philosophy
1– Most people try to avoid eye contact at all costs. 2– Most people either do not say "thank you" or mumble it as if it doesn't mean anything. 3– Most people act out of either self-interest or custom. 4– In most people, the maternal instinct is dead or at least deadened. 5– Most people don’t know how to control their child without using impact to the head or behind. 6– Children outnumber adults, and 20+ year-old children exist. 7– Most people will look for a scapegoat in even a mildly adverse situation, even if one doesn’t exist. 8– Most people have no sense of respect and are therefore not deserving of respect. 9– Most people do not recognize the humanity of others. (See Nos. 1-5, 8) 10– Most people have lost their humanity, also known as their soul.
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
Misanthropic Observations from Behind a Walmart Cash Register
Sleep. Sleep child, til' the light overpowers the darkness inside, where I secretly cried. I secretly tried, but no one would guess, and I never put my cards face up. It's only ketchup. Used to patch up, the cut and scratch ups, caused by the dull of my pencil, and my soul. I fell, but I dragged myself up again, back into my daily skin, and I'm that burden. That one whose not fully there, told by everyone, "you just don't care", with a random shudder scare. The words I despise you all think, even the shrink, and it drowns me to the sink. I'm that disaster, everyone's after, maniacal laughter. "Am I losing my mind?" "Is this mind really mine?" "Would dying be fine?" I'm not so refined :) I can see the things in perfect imagery, things I don't want to see, always worried everyone hates me. I can't see, I'm not me, I'm not even a somebody. Maybe inside is some other ghost, I'm the host, at my death let's just have a toast. Til' death do we part, take it as a new start, buy the roses to my grave from walmart. I didn't think I mattered anyways, sleeping through these pass-me-by days, my mind playing simon says. I always secretly try, but I am still I, and now simon says ".....goodbye."
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Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
Shadow Insides