Sometimes it's hard to find joy when you're working for $7.55/hour. However, when you're surrounded by the raunchy awesomeness that exists in a Georgetown "adult novelty" shop, you eventually find yourself getting joy out of snapping low-quality camera-phone pics of yourself wearing a pair of trashy stripper heals. (Apparently the recession is starting to affect people's freak status because there were maybe a dozen customers the entire night. In other words, NARY A BUTT PLUS WAS SOLD!)
Unfortunately you can't tell from the photo, but these stripper heels go impeccably well with my outfit. They're black pleather (naturally), but have maroon piping outlining them, which matches near perfectly with my sweet DIY sweatshirt.
Speaking of, let's take a closer look at that. It's a recent acquisition that deserves, at the very least, a sh*tty e-homage on this blog.
That's right, e-friends, I'm wearing the f*cking eye of the tiger. Or eyes, rather. And I guess that's actually a leopard. But whatever. What's important is that it's awesome. In fact, it's boss.
However, this boss sweatshirt with its lovely iron-on applique wasn't always so suitable to wear to work at the sex shop. Nope, in fact, it used to be worn weekly by my grandmother (RIP) to her bridge club. But not one to defile my family's legacy by wearing this sweatshirt as is to the sex shop, I got out the scissors. That way I could defile my family's legacy by wearing a modified version of this boss sweatshirt to the sex shop. So, with a few snips at the neck and sleeves, I managed to turn something wholesome into something mildy slutty!
(My family is ashamed of me.)
And speaking of slutty, let's return to the stripper shoes. How in hell do the strippers do it?! I could barely walk from the rectal pleasures section to the penis pump stand in those shoes, let alone coordinate a dance while taking off clothing items. However, I guess if you're swinging around a pole, your feet really don't touch the ground anyway...so, wait. I suppose it all makes sense. Well, unless you're this guy. That makes no sense.
And you know what else doesn't make sense? The fact that the minimum wage is only $7.55! It's kind of messed up that I make more by being unemployed (unemployment welfare is $384/week) than by being employed, say, fulltime at the sex shop ($302/week). Although I could probably treble those funds each week if I actually went ahead and bought those shoes and became an real-life stripper. I probably wouldn't strip off more than a sock or two (OK, and my tear-away pants), but I'm pretty sure it'd be worth a few (hundred) bills just to see me continuously fall on my face, twist my ankle and eventually poke my eye out -- that heel is no joke.
(According to my family, I'm the joke.)
And speaking of jokes, I highly recommend this article by David Sedaris, which includes this gem: "What did the leper say to the prostitute? 'Keep the tip.'" LOL! Hey, if it's good enough for the New Yorker it's good enough for the The Anti DC.
Along those same lines, the New Yorker appropriated this inappropriate clip from the usually very appropriate news station MSNBC by challenging, "See how many 'teabagging' jokes you can spot in David Shuster's hilarious MSNBC preview of [yesterday's] right-wing 'Tea Parties.'"
I'm happy to report the New Yorker and I both counted 13.
(My family no longer wishes to associate with me.)
But Anderson Cooper does! That silver fox knows what I'm talking about!
Actually, he might know a little bit more about that than me...ZING! Now if only he'd stop by the shop...
*Outfit details: Jeans -- Habitual; Sweatshirt -- Vintage; Tank -- Calvin Klein; Shoes: Whatever brand they sell at the sex shop.