Tuesday, October 21, 2008

We are the skyscraper condemnation affiliate

This is an entry for the blogathong, which I heard about from Scary Scary Quite Contrary. I don't know many details about it other than people are expected to write a blog a day, Monday to Friday, for the next 20 days. I like that idea. I've been too lazy lately.

Send all complaint letters to sexmahoney@gmail.com.

Your clothes tell a story.

Mostly it’s a story of your poor hand eye coordination and what you’ve eaten, but that’s nothing of which you should ever be ashamed. Wear your stains with pride.

In fact, the longer you keep a particular article of clothing, the more it ceases to be an external object rather than an extension of your being. In the same way that people show off their scars, they should also brag about their stains.

The shirt I’m currently wearing tells the story of the great spaghetti incident of aught six.

Sometimes, even I feel the need to quickly wash off a stain that appears on my clothing, usually it’s because said stain is the result of incontinence or crotch related damage, such as when I spilled a plate of fettuccini alfredo on my penis, or the time I sat through an entire episode of Project Runway and literally shit my pants in horror.

There’s no sense worrying about other stains; particularly, the ones on your feet. A good pair of shoes is priceless because, with the possible exception of accidental disembowelment, there is nothing more painful than blisters on your feet; so, even if you’re performing a back alley abortion and you spill chopped up baby bits and reluctant maternal tears all over your footwear, you should never do anything that might alter a comfortable pair.

Provided that the rest of your outfit is not made from sack cloth, more than any other article of clothing, your shoes should be comfortable.

I know there are a lot of folks out there who like to wear fancy, or flashy shoes, to match their outfits, showcase their personalities, or protect their feet from raw sewage, but if your shoes aren’t comfortable, then you may as well go barefoot. Don’t worry about broken glass and snake bites, eventually your soles will harden into blackened steel.

Either way, it shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to pick out a decent pair.

Shopping should never be an all day affair.

Sure, research should last a while, but it’s hard to research purchases within a store. I’ve been to plenty of shoe stores and the almost never have any information about the source or production methods of said footwear. Forget about looking into a prostitute, they never tell you their credentials, even when you ask for them well in advance.

At best, shopping should be like a tactical military strike with the bulk of the attack spent gathering intelligence about the target; after which, you get in, grab what you need, blow up a hospital, and get out before anyone knows you were even there. It helps if you don’t even pay for what you purchase; just find your intended item, pelt the first store employee you see with a fistful of cash and get out of there while you can.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been shopping, so maybe I’m remembering it wrong, but, at the time, it seemed the most boring thing since The Lord of the Rings trilogy, only no one offered to give me a handjob in the dark while on any shopping excursions.

I understand that people need clothes, not for any practical purposes, but because the fashion industry has successfully lobbied the government to make going without a crime; that is why we should always do our best to make clothes as functional as possible.

In some industries, there is a place for form, but not in fashion. Our clothes should all come with cool features.

I’m tired of living in a world where the only thing a shirt does is hang on your shoulders like slug. I want a shirt with built in speakers, or a generator into which I can plug my portable blender. There’s no reason why, in the 21st century, I shouldn’t have constant access to ice blended mocha drinks without having to enslave myself to the Starbucks Corporation.

Unlike what I’ve seen in America, Korea has yet to catch on to the all-in-one superstore where you can buy food, clothes, and guns under one roof; most clothing stores are still their own, individual boutiques; however, every once in a while, you get to see a rare and special sight.

On street corners and subway stations, there will, from time to time, appear a truck, out of which come two or three guys with boxes of clothes. The clothes are either an assortment, like the kind of thing you’d expect to find in a church’s clothing donation box, or a large supply of one item, like socks or tube tops.

When the clothes appear, there follows a mad rush of Korean housewives, old ladies, and young does, ready to haggle with the vendor for as little as pennies on the dollar. They pour over the items, grabbing fabric in huge handfuls and flaying anyone foolish enough to get close to them or their finds.

If you’ve ever been to the zoo, it looks just like when the gigantic, radioactive ants break loose and eat everyone not smart enough to run away.

That’s how people should shop, as if their lives depended on it.

I guess what I’m saying is that every sport is a lot more fun if there’s defense. When you turn shopping into a leisure activity, then people take all day trying on outfits and perfecting their style. If I could see people battle one another to the death in the middle of the gap, then I would have a little more respect for someone who’s foolish enough to pay fifty dollars for a pair of jeans when you can get perfectly good ones from those donation boxes I mentioned earlier.

Sure, they might be a little stained, but that should give you an opportunity to make up a story.

Let your pants be a novel.

Sex Mahoney for President

Currently listening to:

The Village Green Preservation Society
by The Kinks
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