
By Matt Eckert
I AM STEVIE WONDER'S SHOPPING CART
Good morning, sir, I am Stevie Wonder's shopping cart.
What's that you say? How can I talk?
Well, let me tell you. Stevie and George Lucas got together over a gram of coke and some whiskey one night and Stevie was bragging about how being disabled you can get all sorts of lazy ass equipment, but what he still couldn't find was me: Stevie Wonder's Shopping Cart.
Born in the depths of Orion, Connecticut, I was forged of the finest metals, bred of the most state of the art sound cards, and tempered to withstand shopping sprees concocted by the most mad of consumers: Stevie Wonder.
What's that? Stevie Wonder - mad?
Yes, my friends, when it comes to grocery shopping Stevie Wonder is a psychotic nut bent on purchasing the most unusual combinations to satisfy his sociopath taste for all groceries unholy.
Listen to last week's shopping list:
Condoms (bulk)
Thunderbird (876 ounces)
Chardonnay (nine liters)
Hamburger (1 lb)
Cheese (velveeta slices)
Hustler (18)
Olive Pitter
Windex
Kleenex
Adult Diapers (1 gross)
Britney Spears Fan Mag (87)
Velemints (2 dozen)
And so forth.
Only a cart such as I could carry these items for Stevie with out so much as one embarrassing word.
So, Mr. Checkout guy, wrap the tube steak up in the aluminum foil, pour the maalox out into the garden salad and make sure each of those Coors Lights has a condom over the top - because that's how Stevie likes it. Archives
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