My feet feels as though some retard has just kissed it furiously.

Stupid inside joke, doesn't have to do anything with aching feet but it still involves feet anyway.

I don't make sense.

My feet just ache.

Why? Because my mom just flopped me about town today.
Shopping's such a pain.

The entire purpose was to go get my New Zealand stuff.

Which pretty much equals to toothpaste and a couple of jackets because I own practically none [Jackets, I mean. Not toothpaste.]

But knowing my mother, she was gonna take a long trip through all the shopping malls, armed with my dad's credit card and ready to take town by storm.

What was supposed to be an hour trip turned out to drag on for 3 hours.
My dad got bored, as usual, and escaped.

And it gets a little unnerving whenever my mom assumes that her taste is the same as mine, so she dragged me around to one of those Marks and Spencers sort of places, oohing and aahing at all the clothes.

But it wasn't all the piss-ish, I guess. It's just.. how to say. Weird and sort of amusing at the same time.

All those shirts looked identical.
Armpit-sleeved, dull coloured and hundred dollar price tags smacked on them.

Eventually we managed to actually get stuff I needed and were decent for the trip, but we also got more than I needed.

My mother was so enthusiastic about dressing me up for New Zealand that she bought nearly $200 worth of clothes for me.

Which made me feel both extremely guilty and pissed, because that was my dad's $200 I've just comsumed and I could've bought either:

1) 153 plates of TK's chicken rice
2) 12 books (Considering each book costs $16)
3) 10 CDs (The Beach Boys!)
4) 400 2B and B pencils (Considering each one costs $0.50)
5) 2 and a half KOF art books.

Yay. But what's done is done.
Wooosaah.

The reason why I particularly hate shopping most of the time is because it reminds me of how vain and materialistic everyone is currently becoming.

Thus reminding myself that maybe that's how I'm becoming as well, because I'm shopping.

That means it reminds me of Whiny Bitch and that I might evolve into her.

Creepy thought, yeah.

We can hardly step out of the house without being self-concious about how we look and what others might perceive of us, that we just consume more of that stuff.

We ought to be animals. Nude, strut around, get laid, get babies, yay.

They don't kill themselves over weird ridiculous things either, what a bonus.

Or maybe we should all be dudes.

Ultimately women tend to possess the bitchy traits.

The jealous ones will never confess in a million years that they're really jealous, but they'll somehow put you down by lying through their teeth with insults, or assure themselves that they're better than others.

And the backstabbing ones will sneak behind your back and slit a dagger down your back before you can say, "Bitch."

The more daring and straightforward ones will lash outright in your face that you digust them.

Don't get me wrong, I've got girl friends who have great personalities, but I guess deep down in all of us women, we've got a little something like one of those girls mentioned above.

And somehow bitchy traits usually lead back to women. Like how women murder people in a different method or whatever.

I'm going off point.

Uuh. Where was I...

Right, yeah, shopping.
So yeah, maybe we should all be dudes or animals.
Dudes don't tend to be as bitchy and animals lead a happy jolly life.

Animals seem like a more tempting option. I'm not too keen on hanging around with a penis.
..Joking. Haha?

How tempting it is. Frolic around the African fields, prance about with fellow mates, eat grass whenever you want..

Then get chomped by a lion.

Hmm. That's just the bad side to being an animal eh.

Ta Dah.