Not to be outdone by my dear friends Deb and Angie, I present to you my attire today. Perhaps this photo looks like any other, but for me it tells a number of stories.
Vans, 7 years old, $40. I love Vans. They make me feel like I'm 40 and a half again.
Shirt, Steve and Barry's, $6. I ABHOR spending money on clothing. But this little number is a perfect ride, until the bus screeches to a halt in wardrobe hell at...
Lucky Jeans, I have no idea where, $100. Yes, my wife buys me jeans. I tell her not to. She does it anyway. I tell her to take them back. She won't. I tell her I'd rather die than wear something called Lucky Jeans. She says whatever. Then I wear them, TO CUT WOOD. $100 jeans to cut wood. Yup, perfect.
Respirator, $18, Harbor Freight. My fav article of clothing today, since sawdust and smoke give me a lung infection and make me sick for 2 weeks. Not kidding. Both my neighbors smoke, btw. In their driveways. I'm buying a gun.
And one final point tonight, my wife and her friend went shopping on Saturday. I fully prepared myself to see her come through the door with her arms full of bags. Hell, I expected it. Instead, she walks in with ONE bag.
Guesses? Anyone? C'mon, push yourselves...
Yep. Jeans. For me. $100.
It's kinda like when that tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it fucking scream that it doesn't want any more fucking $100 jeans.
Hey. It's Tuesday's Tribute tomorrow...are you gonna play? I'm thinking of tributing my neighbors, clutching their packs of Lucky Strikes, and giving me the finger from their yards as they make every effort to exhaust the bulk of their lung butter in the direction of my kids. Or maybe I'll tribute that little hooligan who I saw break a bottle at the base of their driveways tomorrow morning. Sure, I'll go looking for him with you, just gimme a call after you change those tires.
Writer’s Workshop: Like A Drifter
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