I'm not going to lie. I owned a pair when I was in the 7th grade. But so did everyone else. And we all looked like fools together. But now, since most people choose not to don 10-pound wooden clogs when adventuring to Wal-Mart, it means you alone look like a fool. Sadness.
In other news, I encourage you all to scroll down to the bottom of the page and check out the number of hits on the blog. Exciting, no? Granted, they aren't unique views, but still. It makes me feel good.
Also, I have heard several comments recently from people who love my column. I really appreciate it. There will always be haters, and I have always thought it's easier to speak out as a hater than as a lover. So thanks to all of you who have shown the love. Keep showin'.
Majorly.
Posts
1 comment:
When I see someone wearing clogs, I always check to make sure the person next to them isn't holding a large gun to their head. And I'm always surprised to find there is no gun, except that time in Memphis, big surprise there. And without a gun pressed firmly to one's temple there is NO REASON to ever wear a clog, so I am always left perplexed. I suppose there was a time when clogs were not an abomination (this time was a four-minute period in 1974 during an Earth, Wind, and Fire concert), but it has long since passed. Even Halloween isn't a sufficient excuse, since the whole point of Halloween is to dress sexy without being questioned by the vice squad on suspicion of solictitation.
Congrats on your 500 plus hits! That's 500 souls saved from Fashion Hell, one fugly Croc at a time!
Post a Comment