I am so bored and isolated I have started to enjoy it. Getting up and going out to it is a chore, but when I get home I can without a doubt say doing it has improved my day.
Were it not for grocery shopping all I would do with my time would be drink water, cook meals, sleep on a bare mattress, eat maybe one meal a day and a snack like an orange if I'm not low on food, play oldish paradox games, listen to music, go on walks, masturbate to porn when I can get a boner going (usually when I've eaten a lot for whatever reason), spam blacked, sissy and zoophilia on discord servers, harass the welfare office because I need the fucking money I am entitled to centrelink and you are going to give it to me you dog kikes, engage in depressing small talk with my flatmates when I walk past them on the way to the shitter, and last but not least wince when I recieve text messages from my relatives or the flat's facebook messenger chat from some roastie complaining about something I didn't do repeatedly ad nauseum.
Not that life's torture without shopping (although by foid or normalgroid standards I'm sure it's Breivik-style solitary confinement with vidya in a filthy room with bottles of piss, clothes all over the floor and a thriving population of fruit flies that would probably drive them stir crazy from lack of validation) and I far prefer it now to when I had a job, but going into the shopping centre to see and smell all the fruits, vegetables, meats, chocolates and cheeses really does bring me a simple sort of joy. Very colourful, very appealing to the senses and very tasty looking. I can sort of understand why women enjoy shopping, although I still don't get why they love shiny plastic crap so much (enjoying good food makes sense from a biological standpoint).
If they wouldn't bum me for it I'd pull stuff off the shelves and eat it at the shop without paying for it, mostly expensive things like brie, raw beef steak and chocolate, and I've caught myself standing in front of stuff like that for a bit too long looking at it. I want to take their knives and forks from their packaging so I can use them to cut open cheese wrapping, puncture cryovac sealing on rump steak and open cans of salmon flavoured with tomato and onion. It's not a tragedy that I can't though - I can also appreciate the things I buy and carry home, which I can make more than a dozen hearty meals out of before I have to leave my dirty gamer hovel of a room again.
The girls walking through the aisles talking to people and stocking shelves are also usually young and sexy. Probably why they never hired me when I applied.
Were it not for grocery shopping all I would do with my time would be drink water, cook meals, sleep on a bare mattress, eat maybe one meal a day and a snack like an orange if I'm not low on food, play oldish paradox games, listen to music, go on walks, masturbate to porn when I can get a boner going (usually when I've eaten a lot for whatever reason), spam blacked, sissy and zoophilia on discord servers, harass the welfare office because I need the fucking money I am entitled to centrelink and you are going to give it to me you dog kikes, engage in depressing small talk with my flatmates when I walk past them on the way to the shitter, and last but not least wince when I recieve text messages from my relatives or the flat's facebook messenger chat from some roastie complaining about something I didn't do repeatedly ad nauseum.
Not that life's torture without shopping (although by foid or normalgroid standards I'm sure it's Breivik-style solitary confinement with vidya in a filthy room with bottles of piss, clothes all over the floor and a thriving population of fruit flies that would probably drive them stir crazy from lack of validation) and I far prefer it now to when I had a job, but going into the shopping centre to see and smell all the fruits, vegetables, meats, chocolates and cheeses really does bring me a simple sort of joy. Very colourful, very appealing to the senses and very tasty looking. I can sort of understand why women enjoy shopping, although I still don't get why they love shiny plastic crap so much (enjoying good food makes sense from a biological standpoint).
If they wouldn't bum me for it I'd pull stuff off the shelves and eat it at the shop without paying for it, mostly expensive things like brie, raw beef steak and chocolate, and I've caught myself standing in front of stuff like that for a bit too long looking at it. I want to take their knives and forks from their packaging so I can use them to cut open cheese wrapping, puncture cryovac sealing on rump steak and open cans of salmon flavoured with tomato and onion. It's not a tragedy that I can't though - I can also appreciate the things I buy and carry home, which I can make more than a dozen hearty meals out of before I have to leave my dirty gamer hovel of a room again.
The girls walking through the aisles talking to people and stocking shelves are also usually young and sexy. Probably why they never hired me when I applied.
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