Saturday, May 7, 2011


You know what I like about the Laguna Hills mall?  Whenever I miss the pungent whafts of Cinnabons or lowered expectations (typical characteristics of a New Jersey mall), I just take a quick drive over to to this mall to instantly transport me back to the East Coast.  Conveniently located next to "Seizure World" a 2 square mile housing area for octagenarian white elderly folks, this mall is usually full of bluehairs, and our ever-prevalent friends from south o' the border.

Now we weren't going in here for anything special.  I didn't need a rip off Ed Hardy shirt (God knows how much I love tigers), nor did I need to purchase any moo-moos at Pennies.  I was content with sipping my Ice blended green tea from The Coffee Bean like an asshole, however, I couldn't resist this morsel.  Now this isn't any normal kiosk.  We don't have the Armenian girl looking to make your nails super soft, we don't have a Persian lady looking to curl your hair.  We don't even have one of those wave massage machines that you get inside of and risk life and limb to be look like bubble boy for 5 minutes.  We have this.  Imagine my utter joy and horror as I peered at the sapphire blue rays of Zeus pointed into this broad's pie hole.  If you zoom in, you will notice that their entire mouth is exposed using the device, something that you'd only see in Lawnmower Man.  So I'm sipping my refreshing macha bullshit, just dumbstruck by this shitstorm happening in front of me.  My wife turns to me with a glare, immediately stating "DON'T take a picture of them." Too late.

Why on God's green earth would you go to the mall and decide, oh let me go sit in this chair and have some obese woman shoot Tidy-Bowl lasers into my mouth for 30 minutes.   Cyclops called, he wants his glasses back.  He can't play Vector Man until you give them back.  You must really want some pearly whites f you're willing to trade em' off for a lifetime of synesthesia.  Such garbage.   I couldn't imagine any more of a personal hell than being the lady that works at this joint, looking into the eyes of the sun all afternoon.  I bet she drives a 1991 Teal Honda Civic.  Ok I'm just getting angry thinking about this.  Piano cat, play them off.