The new Devil's Advocate is up. I'm very pleased with the responses I've received about the look and design. There has even been a few good things said about the content. That doesn't hurt.

In case you don't know, Devil's Advocate is an online zine done by my friend Jon Holley and I. Click the link to the right to check things out. While there, you may notice this blog is also there. Of course, you could be there reading this blog. And let's not forget this blog is also at Under the Moon, my personal site. That makes this blog both here and there.

Coming next week... the blog goes under, above, and slightly to the left.

Today, I was at Walmart. I hate Walmart. If you've been to Walmart, then you should understand. If you've been to Walmart and like the place... well, that's for another post. I want to talk about the Cleavage and the Four Year Old.

Believe it or not, I was in line to buy a bible for my dad, a large print, compact KJV bible for a Christmas present. And the 20-something check out woman had some very nice cleavage. Cleavage, again for those who don't understand the rules, is something you catch quickly, then look away to think about what you just saw. You can not stare at cleavage. It's like the sun, but worse if you're caught staring.

I should have been paying more attention to other things going on in Walmart. While staring off to think of the magnificent cleavage, I noticed a little boy, no older than four, at an empty register. He had a small box in his hands, something you could fit two decks of cards in. Maybe they could have been Yugio cards or something Japanese parents don't understand. The little boy picked up the laser scanner thing and ran it over the box.

I paid for my bible, thought again of the amazing cleavage, and was walking toward the exit. I noticed the boy again. He two dollars and some change. He placed the money atop the cash register and was bagging his own purchase. I turned and kept going, thoughts going back and forth between the boy and the slap-yo-momma cleavage. It wasn't until I got outside that I realized what exactly the boy was doing. I thought about going back in to see how things go, but that would mean going back in Walmart. Walmart is like X-rays. It's bad enough you have to do it and even worse if you keep doing it over and over.

No matter what the outcome, I can say that the little boy definitely knew the value of a dollar. Nothing wrong with that. He was paying for his purchase. And the shapely cashier, named Ann, Annie, or Andrea, who I bought a bible from, had the most spectacular, staggering, stunning cleavage, which almost makes up for having to go into Walmart in the first place... almost.

  ¶ 1:02 AM