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A Love Letter to Walmart

Dear Murray:

Why the fuck does everyone hate Wal-Mart so much? All it does is employ all the immigrants and hold them down and away from the good jobs? It is puzzling.

Oh, I loves me some Wal Marts. That’s what the folks in Indiana call them, ’cause they add an unnecessary ‘S to the end of everything. Wal Mart’s. Kroger’s. TRAILER PARK’s. Hell, where else can you buy an entertainment center for $27.87? Sure, that piece of shit corkboard crap will collapse within two weeks under the weight of your 19 inch tay-vay and rabbit ears, but when you’re broke ass, you take what you can get.

Where else can you buy certified MADE IN THE U.S.A! U.S.A.! Sam’s Choice weak ass New Coke formula soda made in REAL American sweatshops in Korea? That’s what America’s all about. Making the rest of the world work hard, so we don’t have to (or have a choice to, once our factories all have shut down).

I beam with pride knowing that Wal Mart helps my tax dollars subsidize thousands of hard-working American families who would otherwise make too much damned money to earn a cut of welfare, and that shit would just be UNFAIR!

I love Wal Marts because, no matter what city I’m in, all I’ve got to do is look for some falling prices, and I’ll find the white trash contingent, and I’ll be right at home. They could drop a Wal Mart right in the middle of the Hamptons, and it’ll be crawling with toofless dudes in John Deere hats, lining up to buy giant bags of pork rinds and ammo.

Most of all, though, I love Wal Marts because, every time I go in one, some dude who used to beat my ass is working there pushing carts. I don’t buy anything. I just push carts all over the lot, and watch him go get them. It’s much more entertaining than my broken ass $50 Wal Marts TV.

Now leave me the fuck alone.

Categories: Stupid White People

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Dear Murray

Dear Murray a tasty, tasty bitch beloved and feared by hordes of basement-dwelling illiterati and their fierce antagonists, the Grammar Nazis. He single-handedly turned the webcam whorefest of Myspace into a lively commerce of ideas, including whether or not the TUBGIRL photo will ever be topped as a postmodern expression of the inexpressible. According to web historians, he has inspired more photoshop projects and syphilis jokes than Britney Spears (who he has been repeatedly linked romantically to). He is also rumoured to be the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby, a disciple of Cliff Yablonski, and the second gunman on the grassy knoll. Although he could not be reached for comment, he reportedly resides in or near the tent cities along the LA River Basin, third right after the walrus sunning station.

He has vehemently denied all charges that he is any any way responsible for that rash your wife claims "is from the heat".

His primary function is doling out advice; the inspiration sprang from an endless and eventually dull repetition of fucktards failed to heed his words.

A secondary result is a dysfunctional family "round table" of people who contribute innumerable one-liners and personal experiences, rarely related in any way to the actual question.

It is estimated that tens of thousands of readers have "LOL'd" approximately 5,395,645,694,167,467,105 times, with the toll expected to rise.

He is immune to kryptonite, chlamydia, and brainwashing.

Wikipedia has banned PENCILTITS's entry, debating the relevance of his tasty bitchiness.