It Makes My Dookie Twinkle
recentley in the Walmart in Garden City, Idaho (It is a a city surrounded by Boise on all sides, filled with meth labs, trailor parks, pawn shops, liquor stores, and a dozen tattoo parlors titled “Tattoo”.) I was running in to buy some plain white T-shirts for work and apparentley stumbled to close to the female clothing section. I overheard a morbidly obese lady ask her daughter, whom was about 12 or 13 in a revealing shirt that said “naughty is better than nice” and a face caked in umpa-lumpa style make up, what she thought about this thong. Though this thong had enough fabric to clothe your average full grown male it was apparently to small for her. So she proceeded to bend further down to get, what I imagine could be used as a hang glider sized thong, and in doing so her “oh so dainty” white thong rode about half way up her back. This would not have been so horrifying had it not been for the stain that was light brown and continued to get darker and thicker until its disappeared into her abyss of an ass crack. So unless Walmart started making shitstain sunburst undies in a size 60′ this lady needs to learn either to wipe, when to go to the bathroom, or to teach her daughter that, like a booger hanging from your nose or toiletpaper stuck to your shoe, it is not rude to alert unawares about a crusty 6 inch stain of fecal matter on white lingere that should never have been made or sold in the first place.