Saturday, December 17
After a minuscule four hours at work, had to go do some last bits of Christmas shopping at the shitful Rockaway Townsquare Mall. And as my tradition goes, I never go to a shopping center without buying something for myself. Never. Since I am currently trying to save money for my dream car that I would probably never get, a black 1970 Dodge Charger with white leather upholstery, I only bought two used CDs from FYE since they are overpricing shitfuckers and the CDs only cost five and six bucks. Who gives a shit if they're compilations or greatest hits, they're fucking cheap. I got Aerosmith's Gems and Creedence Clearwater Revival's Rollin' on the River. Anthrax didn't have any used CDs on sale and I totally forgot about Ted Nugent, so I didn't get any from either artist.

As I have mentioned before, the Rockaway Mall is notorious for its number of scene kids walking around within its walls. And I think I found the king of all scene kids. Yes, The King of All Scene Kids. Saw him at FYE when I was walking around the aisles trying to find the "A" section. He had that stupid black lopsided mohawk sculpted with tons of product, many layers of striped polo shirts under a denim jacket, incredibly expensive-looking ripped jeans, most likely eyeliner because I didn't want to look at him and laugh at his face, and get this: un-fitting white pants underneath the ripped jeans, folds of it sticking out of the holes in the knees of the jeans. I was cracking up way, way back in the back of my head, because I was too concentrated on finding that goddamn "A" section.


Christina N. @ 8:19 PM