…Colonel Mustard!

He is adorable, right?   He is feisty and energetic and all I wanted to do was snuggle with him.  It took him a day or so to warm up to my mom and I and then oh did he snuggle.  Even though they claim he was suffering from a bad haircut, I love his hair and when he comes home for Christmas I am going to give him a faux-hawk.  And it will be awesome.  The Colonel has some funny quirks, too.  Such as this:

Every time my brother went to get a shower, he would sit outside the door and just wait.  He stared at the door like he could will it to open.  They’ve also trained him not to go in the kitchen, so when everyone is in the kitchen, he sits on the carpet right where the carpet meets the kitchen floor and stares.  And sometimes licks the floor hoping maybe someone dropped some food where he can reach.  Such a good boy.

Yep, Colonel Mustard, you’re cute.  Can’t wait to see how your cousin reacts when you come to the cabin!

Due to a recent surge in popularity of my illustrations based on the board game Clue (or Cluedo), I’ve decided to create some t-shirts based on these pieces. So far, I have two shirt designs ready and hosted on my store over at Zazzle.com – Colonel Mustard and Miss Scarlet. If you’d like to place an order, head over to http://www.zazzle.com/robthedesigner today! Affordable prices and great designs you won’t find anywhere else!

Colonel Mustard is no stranger to big pretzels...!

EPR frequents a certain cafe in Venice that has some of the best baked goods (arguably) anywhere in Los Angeles… at least west of the 405.   Now EPR  has a theory that they only hire people to work at this eatery who have a fundamentally bad or poorly developed sense of humor.  This conclusion stems from the incontrovertible fact that EPR may not be the most charming guy in the world but when he makes a funny, it’s usually kinda funny… HOWEVER, every time he tries to bring a little sunshine and some fun witty banter to the sad bitter lives of the uber-jaded croissant jockeys at this establishment, they shoot him a cold hard stare that says one thing – pendejo.

Case and point: The display case had as its glorious centerpiece today a giant pretzel – probably about two feet in diameter… maybe bigger… it was striking – a Peter North of pretzels if you will… that is, if Peter North could bend his cock into a knot…which he probably can. Now the girl working the register today seemed a tad bit more charismatic than the uptight automatons that normally man the counter so EPR took the liberty to offer up a couple potentially entertaining tag lines for this porn star of a pretzel, such as: (1) “You think you got the mustard?” and (2) “You should see the sausage…”

Weak material, I know, but worthy of a chuckle…or at least a “Vamos compa, you can do better”… or so we thought. The young lady’s response to (1) was a confused grimace – EPR didn’t explain that you put mustard on pretzels and that a big pretzel would require mucho mostaza and that “mustard” is a loose metaphor for chutzpah/gonad, hence the irony and light humor of asking whether one has the literal and/or proverbial mustard to handle a pretzel of such overwhelming size and girth.  Harumph.

Hmmm...

Her response to (2) was, “I don’t get it, we don’t sell sausage”. Yeah, claro que sí, but as EPR kindly pointed out, street vendors that sell pretzels often sell sausage (he did not connect the dots between big pretzels, big sausages, and big double entendres).  Our lovely server replied: ”Pretzels aren’t served with sausage…you do know pretzels are german, right?” Yeah, and what the flying cabrito  do you think sausage is you smug fartfuck?  It was around this moment that EPR felt his angina act up… but being muy caballero  he maintained his composure and with a playful smile gently asked if she’d tried finding anything OTHER than sausage to eat in Germany.  Her answer was that she’d only been in Germany for 20 minutes… for a flight change in Frankfurt. EPR took a deep breath and sighed.  He didn’t point out that the question was in fact rhetorical…nor did he point out the blinding flash of the obvious –”Frankfurt, Germany”… “FRANKFURTER”! …SAUSAGE!! ….asshole!!! Why oh why does the cheddar jalapeño roll at this petri dish for sphincters have to taste so damn good! A veces el mundo es rico pero hay que pagar la cuenta. Oy.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: El Pollo Rico has and continues to withhold the name of the establishment in question for fear that they will revoke his baked goods privileges.  Revolution is for those with uncompromised principles…but sometimes you have to choose your battles.)

(EDITOR’S NOTE 2: The abahaka Nation acknowledges that this is a family friendly space on the interwebs and apologizes for any gratuitous profanity.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.)

Brave New High School Musical Part 1.

Brave New High School Musical Part 2

This comic is the longest that I’ve labored on particular comic. It went through massive revisions and I even had to map out a plot line. I don’t really know how the idea came to me. I think I just wanted to make something built out of Huxley’s “Brave New World.” It was a book that I had the chance to enjoy in community college English but I was too preoccupied with failing the class to read it. I came back to it a few years ago and now I like it a lot. Anywho, I wanted to juxtapoze new characters into that story, or keep the same story and match that with new faces and a snide remark. I went with the latter. I realized as I was first putting it together that it wasn’t really about high school all that much, nor was it a musical. This is true. The musical part, however, was something that I could piece together. I originally thought of doing some songs that everyone knows for a soundtrack, but that would be very un-John Williams of me. Instead, on the top of each panel is the name of the original music that will play during that scene. It sounds like it would be a good soundtrack.  I kept as many elements as true to the book that I could. I left out Helmholtz, cuz well he really wasn’t that interesting. I don’t think this is my best work, but I’m putting it out there because it’s completed.

September 1, 1955 – The world mourned the death of Colonel Mustard, the popular World War 2 hero who single-handedly defended North Platte, Nebraska from Japanese invasion during the Battle of the Stalingrad. His maid, Mrs. White, was later convicted of his murder, after a jury determined she killed him in the Conservatory, with the wrench.

2.27.08

During a riveting game of “Clue” last night, eight year old Lewey decided to have a little Q & A with his unsuspecting momma.

Luisito: Mom, do people have sex for real?

A little caught of guard, I replied: Yes, people do have sex for real.

Luisito: Oh, I just thought it was on TV.

Moving the conversation along, I accused Professor Plum of the heinous crime of murder in the living room with a candlestick.  However that didn’t work….

Luisito: Have you ever had sex, mom?

Digging the candlestick into the palm of my hand, I replied, “Oh….um…well, yes, Lewey, I have”

Happy with the response, he moved Mr. Green into the conservatory and then:

Luisito: Did you like it?

Now wishing I was the victim of any of the Clue characters with any of their weapons in any room, I said, “Lewey – why are you asking me?”

Luisito: Because I was thinking I should have sex too.

Realizing at that moment that the secret passageways on the Clue board didn’t really work and I was trapped in my own living room with no rope, wrench or revolver, I had no choice but to face this latest bomb-dropping, parenthood experience. So I asked him why he thought he should have sex.

Luisito: I don’t know, just something in my head tells me I should.

I explained that only adults have sex and went into how confusing it will be as a teenager and others will pressure him but sex is a special moment between two people who love each other (thank GOD he didn’t delve any deeper into that part of it with questions for me).  He said he knew all that however……..

Luisito: But why do people have sex?

Oh Lord Jesus is this my punishment?  Can’t I wear a hair shirt and get it over with?

Mom: Well you know that’s how babies are made, right Lewey? People have sex to make babies.

Luisito: OH MY GOODNESS!! That means i’ll get two good things out of it?

Mom: What do you mean?

Luisito: I will get to have sex and have a baby!!!!

This was definitely one of the most challenging moments of parenting I have ever had.  And for those of you who were wondering, it was Colonel Mustard, Dining Room, Pipe.

why does ketchup always get all the glory?

lets just say that people were real stoked about mustard day…and it may or may not have had to do with manhattan’s 6 man volleyball extravaganza.

kim was the first to get things off to a good start by busting out her infamous hot dog costume – complete with mustard squiggle. she looked so delicious that everyone jumped on top of her. typical.

sometime later we got al and boss involved…at the time having boss cover himself in mustard seemed totally logical.

finally, it was time to channel a little clue. pretty sure it was colonel mustard. in sharks cove. with the squeeze bottle.

for absurd colonel mustard montage please see below:

totes! stache bash!

- the calendar girls

Deanne made these Clue-themed cupcakes at my house for her Clue party this weekend.  I helped a tiny bit, but the credit for these definitely goes to her!

The characters include: Miss Scarlet with the rope, Mrs. White with the wrench, Mr. Green with the lead pipe, Mrs. Peacock with the candlestick, Colonel Mustard with the revolver, and Professor Plum with the knife.  Also, poor Mr. Boddy in chalk outline.

What is a Clue party, you may ask?  For the party, Deanne and her friends each dressed up as a character from Clue.  They got fake weapons and costume accessories from the dollar store.  At the party, they played the Clue board game, watched the 1985 Clue movie, and ate these cupcakes.  Awesome idea.

Colonel (or “Lieutenant”) Mustard (or “Mayonnaise”) is an unpopular board game character in a very popular board game.  The game in question is “Cluedo.”  The question in “Cluedo” is “Who killed Mr. Body?”  The answer in question is “Colonel Mustard with Professor Plum in Miss Scarlett.”  To get to the answer, one follows the clues. Here’s a clue: Colonel Mustard is not a real Colonel.  Here’s another clue: Colonel Mustard IS a real mustard.  When I play Cluedo (or Lifedo, or Monopolydo) I eat pretzels with mustard like some sort of German.  The German in question is Adolf Mustard.  Or Heinrich Cluedo.  In 1944, Colonel Mustard was caught behind enemy lines.  They tortured him, but he refused to tell them where the lead pipe was (it was in the Conservatory.)  They rigged him to a machine.  He protested.  They demanded to know who killed Mrs. Peacock in the Rope Room with the Kitchen.  He denied them their answer.  They switched on the machine.  A bolt of DNA shot through the Colonel, causing electrics all up and down his body.  He yelled, then melted.  What was once a human body became yellow: mustard.  The Germans turned him into his least favorite condiment.  He oozed into the secret passage connecting the torture room to the Billiard Room.  He climbed into Hitler’s mouth.  Hitler wheezed.  He clutched his throat.  He begged for some water (Colonel Mustard had horseradish in him.)  Hitler flailed, then died.  Here’s a final Clue: Colonel Mustard in the Billiard Room with his own mutated body. (SPOILER ALERT) – Johnny R. Goode

Personally, my money is on Colonel Mustard… that sketchy bastard.

But honestly, if they couldn’t figure out who aced JFK, who in their right mind thinks they’re going to get to the bottom of this clusterfuck? Oh, and this isn’t even taking into consideration the retrograde nature of criminal justice systems in the Middle East–and in Lebanon in particular. Just remember that this game is approved for ages 8 and above.

26 January 2009: Jack Lewis embarks on a brief-ish European tour with the so-called Fishermen Three. According to Jack Lewis’s MySpace page, I remain a drummer for Jack Lewis’s band. On 26 January 2009, I sit in a Binghamton, NY airport lounge eating coconut date bars, waiting to board a somewhat terrifying propeller aircraft. In a day’s time, I will not be in Europe.

wednesday, 28 january

the rat pack : Clermont-Ferrand

Tonight I am victorious in a game of CLUE. The murderer was me. Go figure. I am reminded of a nifty if ultimately mediocre Martin Amis novel wherein the narrator turns out to be the killer. Damn, Martin! “I see dead people,” indeed.

This does however bring up something particularly problematic in the game of CLUE. The fact that I would accuse myself of murder, and then illuminate each of Mr. Boddy’s party guests to the secrets of my crime (see any Scooby Doo dénouement), seems contrary to the nature of a good bourgeoisie slaying. And Colonel Mustard is clearly not a man prone to guilt pangs, so what gives?

But were Mustard to simply walk away, where to? One can only imagine that Boddy’s guests don’t have much to do outside of Boddy’s house (hence the utterly senseless violence… really, why Mustard?! Why?!), so it’s hard to imagine Mustard getting very far with his secrets.

In the end, I think CLUE is a metaphor for something. Something about upper-class malaise, a sense of lack, of wanting. Next time, it won’t be Mustard, but then again, it really will.

Jack Lewis doesn’t write much (or at all) from the road. -MBD

You’ve got nothing. Absolutely nothing and you know it. These are baseless allegations founded on circumstantial evidence and I’m calling your bluff old boy.

You know, I actually expected more, even from an amateur sleuth such as yourself. But honestly, in the library with the candlestick. It’s always the candlestick. And that was your first mistake.

What mistakes? Let me break them down for you.

You obviously know I’m a military man. And had you performed the necessary background check, you would have learned about my extensive black-ops training and exemplary service record. So I ask: Do you really think a man of my professional capacity would commit such a sloppy crime then leave the murder weapon behind? A weapon you have noted does not contain my fingerprints. I didn’t think so.

I could have what? Did you hear anything I just said? Yes, hypothetically speaking, I could have worn gloves and left the murder weapon behind to throw you off. But again, and please pay attention this time, had I been involved in said crime you wouldn’t have even known a crime was committed. It would have looked like an accident, like he died of natural causes. There would not have been a murder weapon and I would have been nowhere in sight.

Which brings me to your second mistake. My whereabouts when the crime was committed. Or, more to the point, my airtight alibi. Now you claim I was in the library and, having searched my room, you know I had a copy of The Art of War from Mr. Boddy’s collection. But…

You also found what? A gun under my pillow. Of course you did. That’s my Walther PPK. Yes, it is James Bond’s weapon of choice. And yes, I’m sure your boys in lab will confirm that it has not been fired recently.

Why do I sleep with it? Self defense old boy. You don’t become a Colonel without stepping on a few toes. Very dangerous toes at that. And I never know when someone from my past may track me down in an attempt to settle an old score or two. Now if you please, let’s get back to my alibi.

Being a gentlemen I wouldn’t normally divulge these details, but in this case I don’t feel it’s inappropriate to inform you that I spent the evening in question in Miss Scarlett’s chambers. And, without getting into the details, I can assure you we were both pre-occupied and in no position to sneak off to the library and kill Mr. Boody.

Excuse me? Do you really take me for the kind of scoundrel who would make up such a story? When you finally get around to speaking with Miss Scarlett, I’m sure she will be more than happy to corroborate my story and vouch for my character.

Apology Accepted.

Now if that’s all…

Motive? Have I not proven my innocence yet? Then why bother? A bad investment. You truly are clueless, aren’t you? Very well. It is true that I recently made a sizeable investment in a venture of Mr. Boddy’s. One that, unfortunately, did not result in the large return he promised. In fact, I lost my entire investment. But with one phone call you’ll quickly discover that my personal fortune is, how do I put this? Vast. So, yes, I may have, as you so bluntly stated, been “swindled” by the recently departed Mr. Boddy. But, as my financial manager will be more than happy to inform you, the amount I lost was merely chump change to me and certainly not worth killing someone over. Hell, I probably made more in interest during this so-called interrogation than I lost from that investment.

Now I believe that covers just about everything gentlemen. So if you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch. Good day.

Well I just finished the first wave of midterms and I’m taking the night off.  Just me, a bottle of beefeater and a whole lot of diet tonic water.  A group of my friends and I entered a halloween dodgeball tournament and the six of us will be going as the characters from Clue.  We hit up the thrift store earlier today and I was able to assemble parts of my Colonel Mustard costume.  Once I get the safari hat and monocle i will be in business.  Since our team consists of 4 men and 2 ladies we had to switch over the loser of a 4 man TTR match to Mrs. Peacock.  Harsh Times for Stazz.

Due to my post-college depression, I don’t like change. Except when it comes with a healthy dose of hope and a large helping of Barack Obama. Haha. But you know what I mean. I feel myself especially threatened emotionally when staples from my younger years are changed. When I learned that Hasbro is totally changing the game of Clue, I immediately found myself drowning my sorrows in a box of Cheez-Its while whining “I’m so olddddddd” to my poor dog. I not crazy, I swear.

Clue is very near and dear to my heart! It was one of the few board games that I could actually win as a child. Monopoly taught me at a young age that I was miserable at math and business, but Clue, ah Clue– Clue made me feel as if I could one day work for the C.I.A. I was just THAT GOOD at finding out who killed Mr. Boddy in what room with what weapon.

According to the AP, the new Clue is updated to fit in with “tabloid culture”. I love me some tabloids, but geeez louise, keep it out of my board games.

The six characters’ last names remain the same, but their first names and bios have been updated. For example, Miss Scarlet is now Kasandra Scarlet, a famous actress often featured in tabloids. And Mr. Green is now Jacob Green, an African-American “with all the ins.”

HAHA oh man. “With all the ins”. What does that possibly mean? Hmmm. I wonder if he makes his final accusations in ebonics? One of my favorites, Colonel Mustard is now Jack Mustard, an ex-football player. Professor Plum is now a video game designer. I’m not making that up. How are we supposed to feel smart playing this game if our characters have gotten dumber?! And here is the greatest part of all, each character now has a special power to help them solve clues. LIke superhero powers? WHAT ABOUT MY SHARP AND NIMBLE MIND?! Ahh this is too much to handle. But wait, there’s more. No more revolver, lead pipe or wrench–instead we have a dumbbell, trophy or poison. Poison? Ehh, alright. Giving us Chuck Norris’ right leg would have been more practical than a dumbbell. Now there’s a weapon.

Clue has even gotten nouveau riche on us. There’s now a spa, theater and a guest house. Mr. Boddy’s classy, beautiful mansion wasn’t good enough. They made it a McMansion!

They are taking the original Clue off the shelves this fall. Go get it now, or forever be burdened with this travesty.

RIP Colonel Mustard. You will be missed. Here he is, in all his glory.

Rawr.

I can think of only one positive thing to say about this whole ordeal. Perhaps with this new version Miss Scarlett will finally be the slootbag we all knew she was/wanted her to be. Perhaps.

[Posted by Kathleen]

It’s a sad day in the world when a favorite childhood boardgame gets an update.  No longer will Colonel Mustard and Miss Scarlet be gracing the floors of family rooms everywhere.  Instead we’ll have the likes of Jack Mustard a “former football player” and Kasandra Scarlet a “famous actress often featured in tabloids.”  The weapons have changed as well – gone are such classics as the revolver and the lead pipe – now we’ll have a dumbell and a trophy.  Oh, and you’ll now have the ability to kill someone in a spa or the guest house.

So it’ll be Victor Plum, “billionaire video game designer”, with the dumbell, in the spa…  Does that sound right to you???  Perhaps he saw that Kasandra was sleeping around on him in the lastest rag and decided to off her while she was getting a pedicure.

Shame on you, Parker Brothers.  A Simpson’s themed Clue was ok, but this is unacceptable.

ETA:  How could I neglect to mention that each character will have a “special power” that will assist them in solving the crime??

Hasbro is updating the classic board game Clue.

The professor is getting 86′ed, and the colonel is history, too.

Colonel Mustard is now Jack Mustard, a former football player. And the professor has become Victor Plum, a billionaire video game designer.

The weapons are getting a makeover. No more pipe, revolver or wrench. New Clue weapons are a dumbbell, trophy and poison.

New rooms include a theater, spa and a guest house.

The updated Clue goes on sale in the fall.

(Copyright 2008 by The Associated Press.  All Rights Reserved.)

So, O.J. Mayo got caught with his hand in the ketchup bottle. Go figure? 

Let’s face it, Mayo had nothing to lose other than a scholarship he received for serving as the 2008 Big Condiment on the USC Campus. Meanwhile, he was given the proverbial golden handshake.

This is almost as big a shock as having a heart condition after eating two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, onions and pickles under a sesame seed bun. Could someone please send in Colonel Mustard and Mayor McCheese to negotate a multi-million dollar NBA contract for a 19-year old jar of Mayo while we are at it?

You can blame the NBA’s one and done rule. You can blame the NCAA for expecting these kids to say no to money waved in their faces, as an Amateur Association makes Major League money off a college player’s name, image, likeness and anything else Dick Vitale might go Cameron Crazy about, baby!

You can blame USC and Tim Floyd for acting as if they were as blind as President George W. Bush was to the falling dollar and imploding economy. You could blame the money grubbing agents for their slezeball tactics.  You could blame the parents, friends and runners for mistaking the Mayo jar for a cookie jar.

Better yet, you can blame them all.

I had to wait until I could find a cord before I could post this.

Because there was a dog on my head.

Even moving enough to take the picture made him cranky. He wanted to STAY on my head.

Let me back this up. I went outside tonight to throw trash in the public cans. I don’t like throwing broken glass in our cans, because if I ever have to clean it myself, I’ll cut my hands. I know. But at any rate. So I’m outside. It’s beautiful out. When I come back to my house, I sit on my stoop and who should come up to visit but a little tabby cat. He sits down next to me. I discover he’s owned. Like as in he has a tag and a collar and even a BELL. It’s 1:00 am, and it’s too late to call the number on the tag.

Impasse.

Leave the cat out there or take it in?

It’s late. Drunks are driving. South Street. No one stops for cats if they hit them. Philly drivers don’t even stop when they hit PEOPLE. This cat was in the street ten seconds ago. There’s alley cats (who are perfectly okay on their own) out. This cat is declawed. In my mind, this is like turning me loose in North Philly with no money and no phone – the thug alley cats will inevitably EAT this declawed cat alive.

BUT.

I’m allergic to cats. My roommate hates cats. Hell, I do, too. We have no cat food. No litter box. Cat pee smells really bad. Colonel Mustard has rarely even seen cats. And finally, being single at 28, I am not taking any chances that I could become the crazy cat lady.

And then my friend April, who is just as opinionated as me, springs into my mind. April is like five bajillion months pregnant right now, her husband is not coming to the US until probably AFTER the baby is born, and she’s seriously cyber-collecting to get $1000 to bring her cat over from New Zealand. If I could give her any, I’d contribute. If any of you want to help my barefoot-and-pregnant best friend from high school get her kitty over here to help her feel better, I will send a link to send funds via paypal to anyone that asks. I kinda owe her. Really. When we were in high school, we got in a fight over something I don’t recall, she went off to work at a camp and LITERALLY ALMOST DIED in an accident where she fell like 20 million feet. Yes, I was thinking “oh my god it was my fault”. But she lived and is better. More importantly, directly because of it, I apologized to my cousin Laura before she got on a plane, after we got in a tiff in Iowa – I kid you not, purely because April sprung into my brain. Laura and I cried in the airport (a little drunk) and said we loved each other, blah blah blah…seems great, but Laura died a year later. That time in the airport was the last time I saw her. If not for April’s little Sally Field face springing in my brain, I’d never have forgiven myself.

So when April haunted me I figured it was best to pay attention.

Little did I know.

The cat and Colonel Mustard are fighting like…well, cats and dogs. Colonel was actually excited for a friend. This cat, however, is VICIOUS. He comes in the house and runs straight for the Colonel with a strong, evil HISS. The dog just looks…hurt. Like I’ve taken in the Bad Seed. The cat camps out and keeps rubbing against my legs. I’m not interested. Oh, he WANTS to be petted. He’s nice to ME. The dog, however, is not kitty’s friend. He’s crying like I’ve taken him to Michael Vick’s house to play with Cujo. He’s SCARED. Honestly, so am I. If the cat weren’t declawed, I’d kick him out. But since he’s defenseless, April haunts me.

And now here we are. The cat is ruling the house, and the dog is relegated to the couch, literally scared to the point where he’s sitting ON MY HEAD.

Is this how my friends felt when they brought their second child home from the hospital? Well, not the resentment of the second child thing, but the worry over what the firstborn will do to react?

I have to go to bed now. My throat is closing up because of this furball.

April, can we call it even? I’ll even fall off a tree if that’s what it takes, this cat is driving me nuts. Please, though – don’t haunt me through cats.

One of the (many) perks of working (literally) in a supply closet is that no one notices when I’m here and when I’m not. So I may tend to take a long lunch. I may tend to amble around the many retail shops gracing this fine neighborhood trying on stupid shit. Here, let’s go do it together!

 Ah, H&M. The top of the line of bottom of the line stuff. Above Forever 21, below most everything else, and very near and dear to my heart.

But it’s too easy to sit back and bask in the low-priced, poorly-threaded glory that is H&M. Isn’t it a lot more fun to find the ugliest clothes they have and talk about them? Yes, I think so too. Here we go!

OK, I was actually trying this on in all seriousness. A searsucker mini-skirt? For $10? Fantastic! But then I saw them, um, suspenders. Now you can see them too. As useless as they look, they are actually useful. This ill-fitting skirt would probably not stay up very well without them. As they were, there was a disturbing breeze running in at the top of the waistband. No thanks, H&M. What else you got?

 Ha! This one is just hilarious. What you can’t see in this photo is the exquisite attention to detail. The top is seamed like an old-fashioned bra, creating a look that is both constructed and smooshing, constricting and unflattering. The skirt is, um, empire-waisted seafoam green diagonally-layered rayon. Unlined. You’re right though. It needs a little something……

Ah ha! Perfection.

This was the real winner of the outing. Even if it was consistent in color, it was a veritable wonderland of tactile sensations! A macramed top. A ripstop nylon skirt with elastic AND drawstring at the top AND bottom!!! The top – I mean, I don’t even know what to say. It is shit ass ugly. It’s one thing to see shirts like this in pictures of my parents from the 60s and be like – well, yeah, you guys were proud of your macrame skills and you were sticking it to the man and stuff…. But to purchase it in a modern-day retail establishment… I just don’t know. The skirt – basically, it was what Colonel Mustard would buy for his wife to wear to their first rave once he’s finally convinced her to try E.

In conclusion, maybe it’s just because fashion week is here and I’m a little caught up in the glamour and excitement of it all, but to me there’s nothing better than trying on a lot of clothes and making fun of them. Except maybe getting a new president.

 And now we can do both! Huzzah.