As evident by yesterday’s post, I’ve never been one for good style. Minus the mullet, which I ditched in favor of some ‘trendy’ bed-head hairstyle that’s just my way of never combing my hair, 20 years have passed and I still don’t have a clue what to buy myself for clothes.
For that, I either turn to Meli, or pretty much any guy that looks like this.
Or maybe Meli's brother. Her brother has a great sense of style. He’s also gay, but he doesn’t look anything like that fruitball above, and he was once my size. Now on some bodybuilding kick (kill it with fire, kill it with fire), he’s gone from a S/M to a L/XL, and has also left behind a lot of clothes, as we recently discovered while cleaning out our storage room.
So imagine my excitement when I see a big, tall cardboard box labeled ‘old clothes.’ My first thought: rocket ship! ... My second thought: hey, some cool new clothes! Meli’s brother isn’t going to miss them. He’s a big ass musclehead now (kill it with fire, seriously, kill it with fire).
First, I pull out a few nice dress shirts and some polos. Score! Some new pants after that. Cool! I even get a new leather jacket. Beautiful! Put on this baby, and I’m only a soul patch away from looking like this douchebag (okay maybe I won’t keep the leather jacket).
But then I pull it out: a big, stupid looking black bag that really just looks like a bodybag with a hanger on it. It reads 'Armani' on the top.
“What is this, an Armani bag?” I ask Meli, with a laugh.
“Yeah,” she tells me. “Of course it is.”
I’m about to throw it away, when she stops me. “Don’t you want to look inside?”
I think, why would I want to look inside? And then she tells me.
“The bag is to hold a suit, you know. There’s probably a suit inside.”
Inside: a full, custom tailored Armani suit. What’s more, it fits like a glove, which means that it won’t even come close to fitting Meli’s brother, who now looks like this (why can’t it be killed with fire? Is it immune to fire? Oh God I think it has 4 boobs. It’s like it has boobs on TOP of boobs).
So I present to you, my friends, quite possibly the world’s first grungy, unemployed blogger... with an Armani suit.
(Note my Super Mario Bros. belt buckle, for full effect)
Stay classy, friends,
Mood: In disbelief
Shower: Gonna need one if I’m gonna James Bond up some shit later