Writing is easier when scratched on a spiral notebook. It reminds me of writing in a journal where I am uninhibited, and typing sometimes feels like a stuffy essay for a teacher who doesn’t get me. I consider myself an artistic person, but the blank canvas of the computer screen leaves me feeling empty and unmotivated. You of course are reading the typed version of this entry but know that it started from my new, spiral Five Star. Why you should care? It’s like knowing your salad came from the garden out back—it took effort, its…Organic.
My particular spiral pad was on clearance at Wal-Mart. It cost only $1.15 down from $3.50. I know there are strong feelings out there about Wal-Mart, and I don’t like to get political, but I think the place is great. It provides some of the most entertaining people watching on Planet Earth. Where else can you find a bearded lady with three boobs driving an electric cart? (Just kidding, but you can imagine, right?) As someone who didn’t practice regular grooming and hygiene habits until too late in life (I blame this on being the youngest of 17 children), and someone who happily wears hot pink pajamas in public, I really can’t judge my fellow Wal-Martiers—including the stinky grandpa with three teeth and Daisy Dukes. Wal-Mart is the perfect atmosphere to try daring, edgy fashion. Go ahead, wear your thumb-less, fishnet ballroom gloves, dust off that sequin, stirrup jumpsuit—it’s Wednesday at Wal-Mart!
You really can’t beat the shelf prices either—which is good and bad for me. Why not buy that pack of “Double-stuff Oreos?” They were just over a buck. I was stopped in my tracks by a generic brand of cereal called “Double-Berry Muffintops.” I took that as a sign from heaven to stay away from the bad food. So I parked myself in the checkout line—right behind ponytail Sasquatch, covered in tattoos, carrying a Chihuahua—to purchase just the spiral notebook and leave the Double-Stuffs for the lady down the other isle with eleven thumbs and a purple wig.