MFH (Mall From Hell)

Which part of "look in the f*cking mirror before you leave the house" is so difficult to understand? How could I have possibly known that my 20 minute trip to the mall was going to be so unbelievably disturbing?  I had to practically shield my poor little BIT's eyes to prevent severe psychological damage that would take years of therapy to correct.

Our destination: Kid Utopia aka The Disney Store.  Our purpose: Buying birthday presents for her friends.  Not an easy thing to do when you have a child obsessed with every princess known to mankind. We're making our way through fairy tale h*ll when across the store I spot something so horrifying, so ridiculous, so totally inconceivable to me: adult character clothing. Now I don't even want my kids to wear clothes with characters on them. Fine, think what you want, but the thought of dressing my kid up in a Dora the Explorer sweat suit makes my blood run cold.  An adult dressing like this, well it's just plain creepy.  As I regain my composure we begin making our way toward the register, which happens to be right next to the adult clothing section. It's not bad enough that there are jackets, jeans, and sweatshirts bearing every Disney character imaginable.  Right in front of my f*cking face is a pair of bright red, fleece, feety pajamas with Mickey, Donald, and Goofy embroidered in the exact spot where the left tit should be. Are you f*cking kidding me?...Honey, I've got something to show you, go sit on the bed, I'll be right out...OMFG, are you trying to push your significant other into an affair, or are you just REALLY hoping NOT to get laid?  Who wears this sh*t?
We get up to the register, and holy sheep sh*t the cashier practically hurdles the counter and scares the crap outta my kid..."Hey princess, whatcha gettin' today? Aren't you cute? Are these for you? Wanna sticker?"  My poor baby recoils, she's terrified of this freak!  I say, "No thanks, we're in a hurry." and get the h*ll outta dodge.  
At this point, my BIT looks me in the eye and asks, "Mama, why did that lady have a moustache?"  Hmmm, good question. I can't help but bust out laughing as I'm trying to figure out how to answer her...um, she doesn't know about waxing, she likes it,  maybe she's a hermaphrodite...sh*t, c'mon think, THINK.  I calmly reply, "I don't know honey, I just don't know."  Within 5 seconds I hear, "Haaaaayyyyy Laaaadddeeee," coming from a kiosk on my right.  Instead of doing the correct b*tchy thing (keep walking, don't even look), I slow down and turn toward the voice that is now asking me, "Jou wanna me to cleeen you rings?"  Yes, yes that's exactly what I want to do.  I think it would be a fanf*ckingtastic idea to hand my rings over to someone who CLEARLY just snuck past border control.  Go f*ck yourself dude. Leave me alone.  
We turn to try to get the h*ll out of this insane clusterf*ck when I walk into what can only be described as a 3 humped human camel.  This chick's shirt was so tight you could see every bulge imaginable.  As I was saying, "oops, sorry," you know she just had to turn around and give me a full frontal view. Holy baloney tits!  They were down to her waist, I'm not even kidding. What the f*ck is wrong with people?  Where are Stacey and Clinton when you need them?  Someone, please, rescue us from this unbelievable nightmare!
Well we made it, with only minuscule battle wounds.  Twenty minutes of our lives, down the tubes, just like that.  Here is my list of tips if you find yourself identifying with any of the individuals that played a part in my mall trip from h*ll:

1. Invest in a f*cking mirror. No get two, that way you can see yourself from every angle and you'll be able to tuck in any "spare parts."
2. Take a little field trip to Wal-Mart. The clothes are cheap, so you can buy yourself a whole new wardrobe that actually fits!  Crazy thought, huh?  This way the rest of the world won't have to see every lump, bump, nook, and cranny that makes up your lovely physique.
3. Buy a f*cking bra that FITS...meaning your boobs should be closer to your chin than your knees.
4. SPANX!!! These are a must. Don't know what they are?  Google, then buy!
5. Tweeze, pluck, wax, comb, brush...whatever...just make it look like you actually give a sh*t.

For anyone who knows me, if you ever see me with Winnie the Pooh plastered across my *ss, bulges peeking out where they shouldn't be, or hair where it doesn't belong....I'm begging you b*tches,  please shoot me!