"My Brand New Fashion of Waking Up With Pants Off"
I am writing this because I am angry. I realize that some of you will probably be angered by what I have to say, and I apologize in advance for that. Just remember, we all have problems.
So, story time. I had an orchestra concert tonight, which meant I had to wear concert black. No problem, black is classy and swanky and I love wearing it. In fact, I was excited because I can wear pants in this orchestra, I'm not required to wear a skirt. As I was getting ready, I of course put on my black pants that I bought a couple years ago and have loved ever since. I hadn't worn them in a while, though. And you know what? They don't fit. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Size three from the Gap and they are far, far too big on me.
Stop your whining, you say. Make me. I really dislike how the higher-end stores slant their sizes so that more people can fit into smaller sizes. Where does that leave me? I cannot ever go shopping with my mother again. She already thinks I'm anorexic, if I go around asking for a size zero, she is going to strangle me. And then stuff a cheeseburger down my crumpled, torn esophagus.
The solution is just boycotting pants. If you have a problem with this, go out and find me some pants that fit, and I will wear them. But until then, I'm practicing the freedom of pants. The end.
So, story time. I had an orchestra concert tonight, which meant I had to wear concert black. No problem, black is classy and swanky and I love wearing it. In fact, I was excited because I can wear pants in this orchestra, I'm not required to wear a skirt. As I was getting ready, I of course put on my black pants that I bought a couple years ago and have loved ever since. I hadn't worn them in a while, though. And you know what? They don't fit. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Size three from the Gap and they are far, far too big on me.
Stop your whining, you say. Make me. I really dislike how the higher-end stores slant their sizes so that more people can fit into smaller sizes. Where does that leave me? I cannot ever go shopping with my mother again. She already thinks I'm anorexic, if I go around asking for a size zero, she is going to strangle me. And then stuff a cheeseburger down my crumpled, torn esophagus.
The solution is just boycotting pants. If you have a problem with this, go out and find me some pants that fit, and I will wear them. But until then, I'm practicing the freedom of pants. The end.
4 Comments:
Hey, sounds like agood saturday night to me.
And sorry about the mental images hun, but soeone needs to teach those Kidz Bop 6 people a lesson. And a bat to the head would do so exactly.
Halloween all year sounds magical to me! And since I didn't even dress up this Halloween, I guess that'll make up for it.
And Justin, by all means... grab a bat and have at them.
You are more fun than anybody on the web--
I know, I kn--wait, what? Thanks, Baltazar. That comes dangerously close to the "spoiling me" category, but since I like to believe that I'm the epitome of cool anyway, I'll just accept it as fact and move on.
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