Just want to take a quick moment to discuss what the hell is going on with today’s fashion. I am by no means a fashion guru. As a matter of fact 90% of my clothing consists of paint stains and anal skid marks.
When I do go out I feel I dress appropriately.(Non/work related that is). I mostly wear a loose pair of jeans and a tee shirt or flannel. Very simple. Never seem to offend anyone. I keep the colors neutral. Just mind my own fashion business as I wander around Target in search of toothpaste like I’m Chris Columbus discovering America.
What In Gods name are these grown ass men doing wearing these pants that appear to be spray painted on their skinny little chicken wing legs? First off your knee cap is swollen. Second, how do you pull those bad boys down to drop a deuce and finally, where are your nuts during all of this?
I constantly wonder how these men remove these article of clothing at the end of the day. And where does one find such apparel? My guess is Kids Gap?
Then you come across the complete opposite fashionista. This fucking mess of life limps around aimlessly as he looks as if he just invaded Professor Klumps closet as he tops the scales at 113 lbs soaking wet. I am truly amazed on how these characters have mastered a way to keep their sagging ass pants perfectly secured to the bottom of the ass cheek. A belt is always part of the ensemble as I question my very existence on earth after trying to figure the purpose of this.
Ladies you are not off the hook. What is the deal with these coats and those hoods you all wear? You resemble a male lion in heat after a blowout of your fully mature mane at a Vidal Sassoon convention. And for the females who walk around with skin tight pants and a Slayer tee shirt as your exposed bright white spare tire of a belly gets “jiggy with it” in the tampon isle…yeah no. You should be the spokes woman for Mavis Tires. That is your destiny. Embrace it.
Last but not least. Tattoos. I love tattoos. I think they are cool, sexy, a part of our culture and many have so much personal meaning to the ones who wear them. I have a few myself. I’m just not sure some of us have thought this through in its entirety.
When you come across an older person today with tattoos they usually bear a faded anchor on the forearm or a naked grandmother with droopy tits on the bicep. Nothing crazy.
What’s gonna happen when Tito is 93 and his Iron Maiden tattooed balls turn 93? What is it going to look like when the beautiful woman turns 88 and her Mary Poppins tattooed boobies turn 88? How about the image of the man who turns 102 and the tattooed tear drop on his eye socket is now on his ankle? And finally the infamous tramp stamp.
First and foremost if you have one of these you better get your ass over to Staples ASAP and get some whiteout and cover that shit up.
Let’s say over the next 70 years you just couldn’t find the time to get to Staples and you now have to deal with a crinkly, rusted, hepatitis infused, hemoglobin clotted Justin Timberlake tattoo embedded in your rotten ass droopy coccyx bone area, good luck finding where your asshole begins and JT ends.
Damn those tats are sexy now!!!!