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Greater Liberal Florida (standard:other, 5425 words)
Author: VioletAdded: Jul 04 2003Views/Reads: 1739/1455Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Wal-Mart, Duct tape, transvestites, and love... this story has everything!
 



I am pretty sure that this sucks, as it is Friday night and I've just
found waldo again... this time in the circus tent. My sister has stolen 
off with a roll of tape and won't come off her high horse or out of her 
room... It is locked, I've checked.  Do I hear someone sneaking up the 
trellis and Laura ripping duct tape?  Or making off with rope?  Oy.  
How amusing.  Them crazy kids of today, with their tape and rope and... 
oh, never mind it doesn't matter. “Laura.  Darcie. Burke.  If you don't 
give me that back, I am going to plotz!”  Mum screams through her door. 
 There is a ripping sound and the roll is under the doorway.  Bloody 
hell.  Now I really want to know... 

Next day: Wal-Mart.  I work here now.  And I am currently sitting at the
counter, forgoing my duties to listen to 90s music.  I love 90s music. 
Wee.  “Charley! Cleanup in aisle three!”  That's me.  Charlotte, ya 
know. 

“Oh, thank you, Lola.” Lola (who used to be named Lole and the proud
father of three) continued stacking toilet paper.  In aisle three, a 
child had peed the floor.  “That's disgusting.  What happened?” 

“My son,” he/she said disdainfully from the sanctuary of aisle six. 
“The twelve-year-old.”  I'm not exactly sure if Lola's son has a mental 
disability, but he sure loves peeing on things that he has no right 
to... Last week it was the guava fruit (yes, we do sell guava fruit).  
Someone complained of rancid guava fruit and threatened to sue.  Still 
not sure if they have, but why bother?  Who buys guava fruit from 
Wal-Mart? Except, of course, for the desperately idiotic or senile 
Floridian folk. 

FYI, we live in Fort Lauderdale.  Deep in the heart of
geriatric-diapers- agogo land (aptly named ‘Florida' by stupid Spanish 
settlers), our house is right on the beach.  Sadly, we are more 
preoccupied with stacking, cleaning, and purchasing tape to truly take 
advantage of our ‘unique' surroundings.  Or so says our family 
counselor.  He honestly mentioned the tape.  Possibly because of Laura 
and mum's joint obsession with tape (to fix leaks and tie people up, 
guess which one is which) which often causes family ‘difficulties'.  
I.e. : ‘Laura Darcie Burke!  Where the bloody is the tape?  I need it 
to fix your dad's pants until I have them taken out!  Give it to me 
before I. Bloody. smack. You.'  Often followed by a ‘Bitch!  Go. buy. 
Your. Own.  Lazy little donkey fuck!'  yes, that actually was a direct 
quote.   From  Laura, with love.  And she is 16.   She should well know 
by now that you get grounded for calling a family member ‘donkey fuck'. 
  There have been ‘donkey fuck' incidents since she learned about the 
animals the same day she did the swearing somewhere in kindergarten.  I 
was two, but I clearly remember being called both ‘Donkey fuck' and 
‘little elephant shit' in the same sentence.  And having a Barbie 
hurled at me from across the room as I drooled calmly into my Mr. 
Snuggles teddy bear.  It hit me square in the head and bounced right 
back.  Bloody hell. 

“Good day, Charley Donkey fuck!”  It is my friend, Delilah, of the pink
hair and insane babbling.  Laura, though, knows her as ‘mule whore', an 
addition to aforementioned ‘donkey fuck' incidents. 

“Hello, Delilah the mule whore.” Delilah does not work at the Wal-Mart. 
She shops here.  Which scares the cow out of me.  I asked her yesterday 
if she'd heard of the infamous guava-fruit incident.  She had not.  I 
took the liberty of sparing reaction by not going further into it.  She 
was on about toilet paper, again anyway.  It is much too expensive, she 
says.  ‘I don't give a tiny rat's arse that the economy sucks and Bush 
is a donkey fuck, okay? Mum wants toilet paper for to clean the 
garage... the cheap kind, damnation!' is a direct quote from the twenty 
minute rant.  I timed it last time. 

“You know, my dear donkey fuck, it's all Bush's fault.  I am of the
opinion that he acts as a ruler over a colony of guinea fowl.  And his 
wife is jealous of the nasty beasts... and that explains our nation's 
lack of packaging tape!  Don't even ask what I'm talking about.  
Charles, my dear, you don't want to know.”  I wish she would shut up a 
lot.  That's the beauty of our friendship.  And what our nation's 
packaging tape is really going towards. 

“Hey, looky here, mule whore.  It's Lola's ex-wife.  With his twins,
too.”  The twins are blonde.  Their names are Daniel and Marcus.  They 


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