Unlike the thousands of people stampeding into a Wal-Mart as I type this to trample someone’s grandma over half-priced Rachael Ray cookware, I am spending my Black Friday at home in bed. I would rather do pretty much anything else rather than shop on the busiest shopping day of the year.
If you’re like me (in which case you are awesome, and as Julia Sonenshein called me, a “beautiful drunk bastard) then you must find the ensuing coverage of our great nation’s collective Black Friday shenanigans both fascinating and horrifying. Mostly horrifying. Well, apparently Twitter agrees, because there is a plethora of hilarious and often frighteningly descriptive tweets detailing the ridiculous antics that have gone on today.
You should read these curled up in bed, wearing your I-ate-an-entire-pumpkin-pie pants with a huge glass of wine, comfortable with the prospect of an evening free from grandma punching or throat kicking. Enjoy!
Or maybe half-priced gasoline?
Godspeed, you crazy bastards.
I could probably be persuaded to go black Friday shopping if Timon and Pumpbaa were tagging along though.
Black Friday shoppers are clearly scarier. Zombies only want one thing: brains. Black Friday shoppers, on the other hand…
Because who doesn’t want to stand in line for six hours, drop kick an elderly woman and punt a toddler to get a shitty TV for the “low” price of $600, which is 10 times what it’s actually worth, right?
This is why I had mine LoJacked.
Eventually every day will be Black Friday and people will live in tents outside of Wal-Mart.
It’s funny because my husband actually LOVES shopping. He loves it so much I think he’s sexually attracted to Target. If it were legal he’d probably marry Target, but alas their love is forbidden.
Isn’t wedding dress shopping stressful enough without having to punch a woman in the groin to get your dress of choice?