2004-07-02 - 12:57 a.m.
THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES
So. SO. It's July now. Less than a month away from the big day. I think I'm getting a little more nervous every day. But an excited nervous.
I went clothes shopping the other day. I really hate clothes shopping, probably because I always had to go with my mom or my sister when I was younger. Buying clothes with them was more like some weird life-sized version of Barbie or something, starring me as a doll that they could dress up in little outfits. I would try on stuff that I'd never wear, that they'd never buy, just so they could see what I looked like in it. It was so lame.
Going with Charity is no better, but at least we can look at stuff for her, too. Stuff that I would like. Stuff in the Victoria's Secret vein, if you smell what I'm cookin'. Don't get me wrong, I'd pick out lingerie for my Mom when we shopped together too, but that seems a little strange in retrospect. Plus, she'd never model it. What's that all about.
This shopping was a little more intense than just t-shirts and underpants, which is really all I needed. And some socks, I needed some socks. But my sweetums was quite insistent that I get some really nice stuff, like SUITS. Suits! A suit! Are you kidding me? Is this a rib? Everybody out of the pool.
I don't need anything nice, and I certainly don't need a suit. Suits, what kind of madness is this? But she's all "hello, we're going to be dining in fancy restaurants in PARIS and ROME, you cannot wear a t-shirt and sweatpants". I dunno who she thinks is paying for these suits and fancy European meals, but I'm pretty sure it's not me.
I don't like wearing suits on account of the fact that all the people I know who regularly wear suits are buttholes. Naturally, I have associated one with the other. I don't want to be a suit-wearing butthole. The other day, though, I found myself not wanting to be a guy way on the other end of the clothing spectrum.
I was in my car, driving it, just relaxing. It was a warm summer day and I was planning to do some swimmin', so all I had on was my shorts and my flipflops. But I suddenly noticed that I was low on gas and I pulled into the gas station that I regularly visit when such a gasoline problem arises. I was just about to get out of the car when it dawned on me that all I was wearing was shorts and flipflops.
I've seen these guys go into gas stations and whatnot, all shirtless and thinking they're crazy sexy cool. I hate it. Put a shirt on, you're not impressing anybody with your studly physique. But here I was all of a sudden about to be that guy. That shirtless guy who goes into a gas station. I don't want to be that guy! But I had no gas. What could I do?
I guess I'll have to become a suit-wearing butthole too, just to eat snails and frogs in Gay Paree. Don't they have McDonalds in France? I'm quite sure they do what with ROYALE WITH CHEESE and all that. I don't need a suit to order some McNuggets! McDonalds and sweatpants, this will be the best honeymoon ever.
I gotta go!
