Exhibit A.

In support of my own eternal damnation:

Today, while pursuing the selection of Wii games at Super Store X (none of which I can technically afford), I noticed a redneck and his young male companion doing the same. The redneck kept asking the boy to pick out what he wanted, and finally the boy hesitantly admitted that he wanted Super Mario Galaxy and Pokemon Battle Revolution.

"Ok," said the redneck. "Anything else?"
"Um... Super Smash Brothers?" said the boy.
"Well, let's find someone to grab 'em. Do we need another controller?"

I was so jealous that this kid had someone to buy him video games that I had to tell myself that he was probably molested on a bi-weekly basis by Uncle Jim-Bob, and the games were hush-money, compensation for getting raped.

Smugly, I looked at the kid and thought, "Ha. You might have someone to buy your stupid games, but at least I'm not getting ass-pounded by a man who smells like beef jerky and gasoline. Nee-ner nee-ner neeeeee-ner!"

It took everything I had not to blow raspberries at the boy.







It also took four aisles of browsing before it occurred to me that I might be a bad person...