I admit I do get testy on long shopping forages and this current one seems like it has lasted weeks.
When I fail to get satisfaction, watch out!
The photograph -- my shirt changed for the complementary colors and, of course, the ladies -- shows me brandishing Popeye Spinach mere seconds after I discovered the grocery store didn't stock Olive Oyl Oil, Wimpy Fixin's, or Bluto Nuclear Beans.
Pushed far beyond my distant outer limits of genial good-naturedness, I gulped down a shelf of spinach to boost my jumbo strength to one muscle bulge past infinity.
Buffed, I entered into an epic fistfight with the Manager, the Bagger, and a Chip and Dip Samples Hostess over near the luncheon meats with cheddar specks.
I almost won, too, but was carried out after passing a kidney stone the size of Swee'Pea.
Continued: "Dairy Mean"
