Hey, everybody! Here comes that most horrible days of days: Black Friday, or as I like to call it, stab-myself-in-the-eye-and-roll-under-a-bus day!
Black Friday makes me want to jump off a cliff into a pile of rusty knives. I can’t think of anything worse than waking up at the butt-crack of dawn to go shopping in a crowded mall full of deal-crazed screamy people while the smell of pretzel donuts fills the air and dance beats blast over the sound system.
Seriously, why are they always playing that horrible uplifting dance music? Are they trying to force me to be happy? Shopping is not Happy Time. I don’t want to do the sandbar shimmy while I try on pants, I want to feel awkward and inadequate like God intended.
