Mean Thoughts

I feel bad for poor kids. It's hard to appear current and hip if you don't have any spare jing. I saw a little boy this morning with a "Howard the Duck" backpack. I cringed and threw a nickle at him.

Vintage Rock t-shirts are cool. Old Navy t-shirts with an American flag and the year 1998 are not.

Dude, is that a walkman? Are you listening to a tape? Have some pride. Hide that shit like you would blood stains from stabbing your kids for making fun of your walkman.

Homely is worse than ugly. Ugly is when there's a particularly unpleasing facial feature, one glaring error. Homely is when you can't discern exactly what's wrong, but you squint and tilt your head upon first sight, baffled and disturbed. Thankfully, ugly presents itself clearly. It's finite, too, whereas homely lingers like a fart under a goose down comforter.

I am karmically damned to give birth to twins: one homely and one ugly. On second thought, both homely. I'd be lucky to get an ugly.

Wear clothes that fit. You aren't Hulk, either Hogan or THE. Should the front of your shirt part like the red sea from button to button, it's time to bump up a size or two. Hypothetical situation: Five fully grown adults could fit into your pants/shorts while you're wearing them. That isn't the kind of party in your pants you're going for. How am I supposed to gauge the size of your ass or the fullness of your package in that skirt?