sent my angel off to her first year of college. it didn’t come cheap, punkers. i had to blow my wad at bed, bath and beyond, target, staples and the iStore or apple store or whatever the fuck it’s called. here’s a breakdown for those of you who have to plan for college/dorm room in the future:

bed, bath and beyond (comforter, pillows, xtra long sheets, towels, storage units, bed risers, robe, shower caddy, hangers, iron, ironing board, hamper, adhesive shit for cement walls, lamps, bulletin board, trash can, fan, etc.) $1,000

target (bathroom shit, hair shit, makeup, medicines, first aid shit, coffee maker, commuter cup, picture frames, laundry liquids, tissues, snacks, water, etc.) $500

staples (desk supplies and school supplies) $200

iStore (macbook, printer, iHome clock stereo thingy, ethernet cable) $1500

thank god she bought her own clothes and jeans.

these are london circa the 60s. they are fucking cool.

so i say now it’s my turn for some back-to-school shopping. cuz i’m selfish like that. i love fall clothes. not winter clothes, bitches, but fall clothes. for one i love when it’s time to reboot. boots rock and allow you to express your inner badass like nothing else.

here’s one new pair i bought recently.

i do my best shopping with a hangover. you might think, fuck no, i don’t have the energy to shop when i have a hangover. you think wrong. i don’t have the energy (or the head) to do anything else but shop. shopping is an instant hangover cure. like hangover sex, it just sends the headache packing.

plus when i have a hangover, i have an i-don’t-give-a-shit attitude, which means i can spend money i don’t have without thinking twice. hell, i don’t think at all with a hangover. because i can’t. because there is an elephant stepping on my head or some shit.

the other way to shop (i guess this post is turning into the punker’s guide to shopping) is to avoid those ginormous discount stores. marshalls, ross, tj maxx. i say this not because i’m a snob. well, i am a snob, but i don’t mean to be. i’d much rather be one of these salt of the earth types, but it didn’t turn out that way. fuck it.

the reason i avoid these stores is because they hurt my hangover head. it’s like sensory overload. first of all there are women’s, men’s and children’s clothes, house wares, outdoor furniture, etc. all in one store. what the fuck mr. merchandiser. the clothes aren’t organized properly. there is winter and summer shit, dresses, tanks, skirts, slacks, all on one football field length rack. the sizes are all mixed up. i hate this most with the shoes. and what happens is i find something i like, i realize it’s not my size even though it was in my size area, then i can’t find another in my size.

what an epic waste of time.

another epic waste of time–shopping for clothes online without trying them on. my dove girl ass is hard to fit so i’m not a perfect size 6. mostly cuz i’m not a size 6. but there’s nothing worse than having to return online clothes and being out the shipping money to and fro with nothing to show for it.

so what i do is go to banana republic, the gap or express, where all the shit is displayed neatly and arranged in color and size order. some of it is hung and some folded on a table. the hangers all face the same direction and they even have people who fold the clothes with a folding board. so you never find things strewn about haphazardly like you do at the discount stores. plus there are styled mannequins offering you layered outfit and accessory ideas. this is better than garanimals and quite like a bloody mary for my hangover.

when i can’t find the article of clothing in my size some uber helpful salesperson, who treats me like julia roberts was treated after richard gere ripped the sales skank a new one, will check the backroom and the other stores near me for my size. (run-on sentence much?) they will even check online and let me order right then and there. then it’s shipped to my home for free. ain’t that the shiznet?

i’ll answer for you. it is the shiznet and it makes my hangover head swirl with the happy thoughts.

like elton john i have a tiny dancer in my hand. mine whispers to me when my thoughts are untoward.

i’m so fortunate to have my tiny dancer; we tell each other how it is.

here are a few of our exchanges from today:

me: what the fuck is that padded ass enhancement thing doing in the store window?

tiny dancer: some people need those, sugar, not everyone is blessed with your junk in the trunk.

me: maybe. *smiling* but what’s with the dimples?

tiny dancer: it’s supposed to be au natural.

me: the dimples of venus aren’t there. they’re on the lower back, just above the ass.

tiny dancer:and it’s only la perla for you, princess.

——————————————–

me:ohhhhh my fuckinggod you motherfucker i can’t believe you just pulled out in front of me like that!

tiny dancer: you have the bad hormones today, poodle. take deep yogic breaths

me:BZZZzzz. (i can’t relate to you right now.)

tiny dancer: i can hear you.

me:  *holding up left hand* talk to the left cuz you ain’t right. that had nothing to do with my hormones, that was a total dick move on that guy’s part.

tiny dancer: maybe he is distracted because his girlfriend just dumped him.

me:so he should be allowed to drive like a fucking cock knuckle? i should be more empathetic?

tiny dancer: that would take a lot less energy.

me: fine, i’ll take a rage pill. that takes zero energy.

tiny dancer: haven’t you had a few too many of those lately?

me:maybe i’ll get a tony danza for my hand instead. how about THAT?

tiny dancer: oh puddin’, he wouldn’t fit inside your hand.

me: oh now you’re all realistic and shit?

tiny dancer:*grins devilishly and pirouettes off*

——————————————–

me: who would put those words in neon?

tiny dancer: that doesn’t say “enjoy the aromas.”

me: what is it with people and fart humor already!

tiny dancer: in the land where i come from there are no bodily emissions.

me: take me there.

——————————————–

me: oh great there goes that perfectly fit 27 y.o. cyclist chick who all of the older men love. why does she flirt with them? like she really wants someone that age? what a fucking cock tease.

tiny dancer: oh pumpkin, you’ll never be nubile again but she doesn’t have your wisdom, maturity, humor, money, or free-spirit.

me: i think she does. i can tell she is wise beyond her years. and she has way more clothes than me.

tiny dancer:  listen to me love muffin, she’s bat shit crazy and has nothing else to spend her money on.

me: i don’t turn heads like that anymore.

tiny dancer:  well, i’ve seen her mother. suffice it to say she won’t be wearing a MILF t-shirt in the future.

me: hold me closer, tiny dancer.

this post is dedicated to my dear friend, suzymags, who has a totally bangin’ body but sees this shit just as i do.

so the new “body for everybody, love your body” ad campaign by victoria’s secret is in full swing. you’ve probably seen the tv spots, or if you’re male, been to the website for a closer look. it casts these angels:

this is clearly an attack on my dove girl ass!

get this, in the campaign each of these 5′ 11′, 100 pound (10% is boob weight), superleggy, supermodels appear on screen and declare “i love my body.” thank you captain obvious. i might have missed that you have a very loveable body had you not pointed it out.

and speaking of pointing it out, i say we take the patented laser dysfunction detector* to the flesh of these little twiggies. yes, just because they’ve been plumped, padded, bronzed, painted, styled, color-corrected, and air-brushed for hours by top professionals in the plumping, padding, bronzing, painting, styling, color-correcting, and air-brushing fields doesn’t mean they’re without flaws. it’s time to reveal victoria’s secrets.

i’ll just go left to right in the photo and reveal the secret** that the camera doesn’t show:

1. premature dryness

2. overactive bladder

3. hermaphrodite

4. chronic yeast infections

5. queefer

6. hyper gag reflex

7. chlamydia

kinda makes me love my body after all. excellent work VS!

*the patented laser dysfunction detector looks like a metal detector wand thingy and clicks when a condition is found. there was a lot of clicking going on when this group was scanned.

 **actual medical records were not obtained and results have not been verified. therefore, more conditions could exist.