I made one of those stupid connections a couple of minutes ago. Steve Huff wrote a piece about pimping out your MySpace profiles. I commented on it, and went on a bit longer than perhaps I should have. I kind of drifted off and realized that I would be better off just posting the rest here.
I hate fashion. I am like a lot of guys. My hair stays the same (actually it is shaved right now) and I pretty much alternate between keeping it extremely short and sometimes I will get lazy and let it grow out a bit. Comb it straight back. Don’t need any of that goop in my fucking hair, or blow drying or styling. If I can’t rub a damn towel on my head and brush back a couple of times I am just not comfortable.
I am the same way with clothing. T-Shirts and Jeans for the most part. My jeans are the same ones I have been wearing for 25 years. Stuck in the late ’70s and ’80s. Straight jeans that actually fit between my beer gut and my hips, not below.
I hate the pants that fall down around your ankles, showing underwear and whatnot. I embarrassed my hostess at work a couple of weeks ago. She came behind the counter to get something and bent over. All I had to say was “Oh, pink today, huh?”. She wore a fucking belt the next day. Of course this is the one that wants to get her own name tattooed on the small of her back. Jesus. All I could think was “reading material if the guy fucking you from behind gets bored”. Couldn’t say that though. I like being able to pay my bills. Her name? Is that in case she forgets or for the stranger she just fucked?
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