Tuesday, May 4, 2010

happy effing birthday

It's my birthday. I’m turning 36 and I’m not too happy about it. I reflected on things while shaving my beard this morning and I decided that, despite looking like across between Jabba the Hut and Tevye from “Fiddler on the Roof”, I do manage to maintain a certain standard of appearance.

Me. Age 36.

It’s not a high standard, it’s not even a middling standard, it’s more like the lowest possible socially acceptable standard, but still. It’s better than no standard at all. Even though my youth is gone like a bottle of Strawberry Mango Mad Dog 20/20 on a Saturday night, I still won’t let myself wallow in certain fashion cesspools that seem to be taking over the world...or at least, our local corner of the world.

Fashion cesspool #1 - pajamas
If you are over the age of 18, wearing cartoon themed pajamas is just asking for humiliation and forced sterilization. If you wear the offending garments in public, that makes you a prime candidate for the anti-freeze smoothie taste test I’m putting together.

oh, Tink. No.

Fashion cesspool #2 - pedicure
Nothing says “if Darwin was right, I should be dead” like a pair of nasty, scaly, scabby, yellow feet. Do everyone a favor and take care of that mess before flip flop weather. I’d rather see the end result if you hacked off your feet with a dull, rusty blade and left the white knobs of your tibias gleaming from a spurting wet stump than see your disgusting, putrescent, unkempt bare feet. You are nasty.


Fashion cesspool #3 - skinny jeans
Because I have faith in humanity, I’m sure someone has already killed whoever invented skinny jeans. If not, I'd like to hunt him down and kick his ass to death. Anyone who can come up with an item of clothing that looks universally bad on every single person who wears it should pay dearly. For making 90% of the teenagers in my hometown look like knock-kneed heroine addicts. For making skinny girls look fat and giving fat girls another reason to crack open a case of Twinkies. The problem is that despite the name, skinny jeans don't equal skinny. They really equal 20 pounds of butter in a 10 pound pantyhose.


I may be a mustache having, mom-jean wearing 36 year old, but at least I'm smart enough to avoid the cesspools.

pictured: Cesspool Mother Ship


Ann @ makethebestofthings said...

Wow, there's no snark like unhappy birthday snark. Cranky birthday to you! And hey, are my jeans considered skinny jeans? At least they're not yellow.

TLC said...

Kelly please tell us how you really feel. :) You are to awesome!