The land of evil, that some call Hollister

Have you, like me, ever walked down the hall of the local mall and stopped at a scent that made you think of a street corner? That unmistakable scent of whore that wafts from a store with an opening shaped like some kind of beach gazebo. Have you ever thought of entering that store, or where forced to because your piece of pointing wanted to go in, and would deny bedroom favors if you refused? Well I am here to tell you to avoid the place that calls itself Hollister, but is really an evil and soulless place. Why is it so evil you may ask, well let me tell you. It is a gateway into a pocket dimension full of succubae, it destroys your senses, and it will destroy your self esteem and turn your women into a raving lunatic.

First of all, as someone who has entered more then one Hollister (pity me) thanks to some machoistic tendency that I think I need therapy to break, I can say that the entries too these stores are dimension doors leading to the same place. When you enter a Hollister you see the same displays of beach wear, and the same three women working there. The blonde sluttish one, the brunette one who is slightly less smutty, who gets to be the manager, and the red head who might as well call herself “cock gobbler”. They swarmed around me and tried all their tricks to suck my wallet from my pants. What with the sunglasses that cost more then all of my first addition books and my records combined, to the clothing that I would have to cut off about eighty pounds from my form to fit into. The clothing that is so thin and has purposeful rips that costs more then the clothing that I can get from Target that will last for years instead of a few weeks.

While these three succubae surround me and try desperately to sell me about forty cents worth of cloth, as if that will take back the things their step fathers did to them when mommy was away on a business trip, they kill my sense of smell and sight. When you enter the store and smell the gallons of perfume and body spray that they not only pour over everything, but the customers and the people who work there seem to use that toxic body spray as an alternative to bathing. So not only do I smell ass, I also smell noxious body spray that I am sure is great in small quantities, but in large quantities, burns off my nose.

Then you have the problem that sometimes women look too sluttish. Strange for those who have not seen it I know, but let me explain. It is fairly hard to imagine if you have never seen it, but if there is no imagination involved, and it is not porn, or a private thing with your girlfriend or wife, then you just have to imagine, that more then a couple dozen men have slept with this girl. This might seem like a good thing, because after one date, you are going to get lucky, probably before you get to the restaurant. But that is not always a good thing. Why you ask? Because we live in a world with venereal diseases. Sometimes, you don’t need medical tests to know that there is something living in that lukewarm hallway she calls a reproductive organ that wants to “unravel your nervous system like a present on Christmas morn.” (quoting Drinky Crow ftw)

Finally, if you make the mistake of going into that hell hole with a woman who looks vaguely normal (i.e. that she eats more then once a month and does not sleep with everything that moves) then she will be turned into a raving lunatic at the sundries in the so called shop. She will be ridiculed by the young women who work at the pocket dimension, because she weighs more then 65 lbs. If she has a bit of body weight then she will have to look forever to find clothing that she could fit into. With the amount of pressure on women these days to stay thin (or what I like to call the third world look) they get to face even more pressure in this hell hole. This breaks the camels back and she turns into a rabid beast who quests for the death of her male counter part. No matter what you say, or how you say it, you will be wrong. You will not be able to console her and you will not be able to run. She will catch you, and beat you over the head with a blunt object. For you are the one who made her fat (so clams the 135 lbs woman) with that pasta that you made. (pity me)

While all this is going on, your self esteem will take a nose dive. I looked at all the other men, and knew that in any test of knowledge, I would win. You would think that this would make me very happy. Well you would be wrong, for two reasons. First, as the most brilliant and humble man on the face of the planet, I already know I can beat anyone in an intellectual contest (please do not challenge this, it is all I have left) and secondly, it doesn’t seem to matter. All of the other males in the store could bench press cows. They remove their shirts and expose rippling muscles that made my body cry out in fear that my brain would get ideas, and force me to work out more. For some reason, girls who I am interested, always seem drawn to these men, who although having bodies that can rip cars in half, have the brain power of stouts. Then while I look around the store for something that can fit me, as my female escorts knickers start to fall to the floor at the sight of these men, I notice that all the clothing is built for people like these brainless toddies. Now I am in no way fat, I am in shape to an extant, pretty much a normal looking guy, but I can not compete, or where this clothing. That worm of insecurities that lives with us all, takes this time to strike, and remove every good feeling about myself in one fell swoop.

If you can, run from Hollister, run while you still can, before it eats you alive. Save as many people as you can, and help me get our fellow normies out of that hell hole. Together we can do it! Together we can stop this madness! Who is with me!!???