Monday, October 27, 2008

decidedly crazy

DC is chock full of crazy sons of bitches. And I'm not talking about bumbling hobo, "Where-are-your-pants?" and "Who let you out of the home?" crazy. No, I'm talking about put-together, secret psychopath serial killer crazy. On the outside these people look completely normal, even ordinary. But then they open their mouths. And that's when you know. These people will say things only clearly mentally unstable people would ever say.

Take, for instance, the other night. My friend, The Cap'n, rolled into town to visit friends and celebrate being shipped off to Iraq. Whoops! Did I type celebrate? I meant he came to visit friends and commiserate with them through heavy drinking because he was being shipped off to Iraq. Clearly, it made the perfect premise for a party...

The only problem was this party took place at Local 16, a spot on U Street that would be completely awesome (seriously, their patio is tight) if a portion of its clientele wasn't so stealthily nuts...and, quite frankly, tasteless...and blind...and probably functionally retarded.

I say this not because some non-descript jagbags tried to shiv me, The Cap'n or anyone else with a sharpened spork or anything, but because some non-descript jagbags f*cked up the outfit I helped create for my and The Cap'n's good friend, Canada, who you may remember from blogs past. Seriously, Canada was lookin' good...


And despite not resembling Putin with Flock of Seagulls hair in real life, Canada was working it out, that is, until some stupid, insane girls who looked, well, stupid and insane (there is such a thing as too many sequins...) harangued him for 30 minutes mocking his -- and, by association, my -- sartorial sensibilities. Come to think of it, it was probably just a ridiculous ploy to get him to pop his shirt off. Although, if it was, I have a hard time believing he wouldn't oblige. After all, like Dennis Reynolds of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia fame, Canada also believes there is nary a problem that popping his shirt off cannot solve. He's wonderfully entertaining. (And he's single, ladies!)

But back to the matter at hand. Now, truly, what on douche-free Earth is there to mock about Canada? Well, not so much about Canada as just his outfit (zing!). That ensemble is objectively good. In fact, it's more than good. That. Sh*t. Is. Tight. And if I hadn't been too busy trying to start a rave with the LED light attached to my bike-lock key on Local 16's pseudo-dancefloor and had actually heard these she-'chebags mocking dear Canada just for lookin' fine as hell (or, perhaps, simply wearing clothing on his upper body), I'd have been forced to go ahead and Chuck Norris-style roundhouse kick them in their collective teeth. Or at least ask them why they were being such bitches.

Now, I understand that accusing others of being bitches for mocking someone's outfit may sound is definitional of hypocritical coming from one who "Shambles P.I.'s" this city like it's her job, but trust me (and the craftsmanship of Hugo Boss) -- if you'd seen that jacket Canada's wearing in person, you'd have also been forced to Chuck Norris roundhouse kick these bitches in the teeth for mocking it. Seriously, that jacket is battery-and-assault-charge worthy and you're batsh*t insane if you don't agree with me. End of story.

But speaking of batsh*t insane (that wordsmithing will become totally awesome in exactly 30 words), remember my mentioning of "bumbling hobo, 'Where-are-your-pants?' and 'Who-let-you-out-of-the-home?' crazy?" Well, um, I don't know quite how to explain this, but...


I swear to you -- I was wearing pants! Just really short pants. And thankfully, you can even sorta see them in this sweet photo of me metaphorically roundhouse kicking that ball in its proverbial teeth as if it just insulted my sweatervest. Kind of. Moreover, my doorman let me out of my home, which I suppose by default, excludes me from the hobo category. But, yowza, I looked effing nuts showing up to bat in this get-up. In all fairness, though, I had no idea I would end up in the bowels of Arlington at the batting cages yesterday. In fact, I had no idea I would end up in the bowels of Arlington at the batting cages ever, but, then again, I also never thought I'd see the day when a jacket, a sweatervest, a tie and a button-down would be considered ocularly offensive to wear out on a Saturday night, especially in DC, the magical fairyland of the button-down. But mein Gott, was I wrong. This town is truly a sick and twisted beast that I will never understand.

On the other hand, the only words said about my objectively wacky batting cage ensemble were, "You're pretty good, despite those shoes," by an old man with an epic mustache. Although, I suppose to talk sh*t to the crazy-looking chic seemingly without pants, who just picked up a bat and started wildly swinging, one would need to be even more certifiably nuts than the crazy-looking chic seemingly without pants, who just picked up a bat and started wildly swinging. Fortunately for all involved, not everyone's as insane as those tasteless -- and clearly near-sighted -- bitches at Local 16.

I kid, though. I'd never go classic mafia on anyone's ass with a baseball bat, no matter how offensively idiotic a person is. I only hit balls. And, for once, any double entendre is not intended.

11 comments:

I-66 said...

Upton Hill?

Righteous (re)Style said...

Wait - what the hell were they mocking about his outfit? That is was actually coordinated? Must know details. Just the jacket? What was their issue with it?

Greg said...

the cliche 'too stylish to be straight' come to mind

women tend to think it's a personal affront when a mere man dresses better than they do - so they'll then mock you mercilessly in an attempt to regain some of the lost face.

Arjewtino said...

I've taken swings from that exact batting cage, in that exact machine.

But I was not wearing those exact short "pants".

They look better on you, anyway.

LivitLuvit said...

Hot pants are all the rage right now! We should rock them with neon tights and peep toes. LUVIT

Marissa said...

i--

I'll be damned. It was! (I just Googled that, by the way, to confirm. I sometimes don't pay attention to little details, including, where I am...yeah.)

righteous--

I don't even know! This is all based on the fact that I turned around and saw the sweatervest and tie had been removed. Stunned, I stammered, "But why?!" I cried a little.

greg--

Really? I think this is a very masculine look. But the second part of what you said makes some sense...

arjewtino--

I feel a kinship now. I can only hope it was the same bat, as well.

Marissa said...

livit--

I've definitely pulled that look around a romper before. I might as well just do the same thing for a pair of hot pants. It's on!

Jack said...

I'm sorry but that pic with bat is hot.

J

http://adventuresinvoluntarysimplicity.blogspot.com/

Righteous (re)Style said...

So, basically, your friend ended up wearing an untucked button-down . . . oh my god. I see that "look" around DC all the time and it makes me cringe. Esp. when the untucked ends are all wrinkled b/c they were actually tucked at some point. The whole idea makes me want commit battery. or vomit. or vomit while committing battery. blech.

evers said...

as a straight male under 30 who thinks Pavement&Digable Planets are the shit. the jacket is proper and pretty much a clean version of the M-65 look. the sweater looks wtf. that pattern cannot be taken serious and probably needs the likes of johnny depp or jack white to pull it off. basically he looks hard pressed to be...if this is the guy that wanted to look independent i suggest a nonchalant attitude, dark blue plaid shirt, and a skinnier tie. this too me is just a dc guy with a cool jacket. he shouldnt have been picked on though unless his face said hot shit.

Marissa said...

jack--

Awww shucks.

righteous--

I know! Hence, my tears!

evers--

I like comments that make me Google shit. M-65, who knew?! I have so much to learn about men's fashion.

But you know, we tried some plaid flannel shirts and some edgier stuff on him. However, since he's a gym rat, he just looked like a lumberjack. I actually think the argyle works here. He evoked an essence of an Ivy League professor or some sort of Dead Poet's Society type of thing. I will gladly admit that I do like the look you're suggesting, though, just on more wiry, lanky guys.

As far as those bitches picking on his outfit, that was straight retarded. However, if you'd have seen the fake Burberry one of them was trying hard to rock, it's almost a compliment to have been insulted by them. Also, like I said, it was probably all a ploy to get him to pop his shirt off because, no question, this outfit was tight and Canada was lookin' sharp, argyle and all.