Autumn dreaming
I was waiting in line at the bank and watching a little old white lady in pink sweatpants who was standing with a much younger asian woman. I assumed that the asian woman was some kind of care provider. I also assumed that she was bilking the woman. Because I would, if I had access to a little old lady's bank account.
But as the ladies left the teller and walked past, the older woman caught my eye and smiled radiantly. I instantly realized that she knew that she was getting ripped off, and that she didn't care - because she gets to wear sweatpants anywhere she goes!
As near as I can figure, I need to either age another 40 years, or put on another 100 pounds before I get to wear sweats in public. Neither option is particularly appealing.
I guess I could pretend that I'm always jogging, or don a whistle and impersonate a highschool PE teacher. But I just want to be me - in sweats.
I'm going to sacrifice some chickens to the Casual god this weekend. If you get to work on Monday and all the men have exchanged their button-ups and ties for sports jerseys, you'll know that the sacrifice was pleasing. And you'll also know that I will be smiling radiantly, waiting in line at the bank in my sweatpants. Commando.
posted by KOM @ 2:11:00 PM
15 Comments
15 Comments:
OK, so I SHOULD wear one of my jerseys on Monday?
As long as you wear your trakkie dacks pulled up to your manboobs, you'll always be considered sexy.
That's if you're over 60 years of age though.
OK, 1 more poem before I call it clits. I mean quits.
"I was waiting in line at the bank and watching a little old white lady in pink sweatpants who was standing with a much younger asian woman"
That snatch stunk like fuck and goddam elephants cumming.
I cried "Holy shit that's a fucking piece of fuck."
And then I bent down and started fucking the absolute anus and soul out of a mallard duck."
The end.
Pretty good, huh?
There's an area in this town called "South Park".
It's where the uber-rich live and shop (well, one of the places).
If you go to the bank in this area, you will see little old ladies in sweat pants matched with $500 designer silk blouses.
I love it!
That was a truly scary thought. Pink your colour?
J - I don't know. Yet.
Squishi - Who told you about my man boobs?
Yawn - I can only assume that you'll be a posthumous superstar. And I'll be rich for it!
IG - Fascists and apologists both are welcome here. Circus folk, not so much.
TGIUTK - Silk and sweats? Who says that heaven isn't already on earth?
Diva - Naw, grey. I gave up pink with 1988. Along with sockless boat shoes.
Wait, KOM, what about the ladies under 80? We want to wear sweats in public, too! Although, not so much commando in sweats because I'm not sure where all of the little fuzzies from the inside of the pants will end up.
word verification is "qdcujahv" which is actually the lyrics to an 80s song by the Clash called Rock the Casbah. It goes a little something like this:
chorus
"Q D C U JAH V,
Rockin' the Casbah,
Rock the Casbah"
Pretend you've been posessed by Paris Hilton...I bet she could pull off pink sweat pants.
Kara - Strangely, women can get away with wearing sweatpants. Unless they're celebrities. For some reason celebrities are expected to be dressed for the red carpet even if they're popping out to pick up a bag of chips from the corner market.
V - She's got the commando bit down, anyway.
neiner, neiner, neiner...
I can wear whatever I want to work... I work at an "outdoor gear and apparel" place.
Nice.
My mom had a matching sweatpants and sweatshirt outfit for every day of the week when I was in middle school. She had pink, red, green, etc. You always had to be on the lookout when she wore the black sweatpants outfit.
Now she's more into wearing shorts that are just that much too snug. And short. She looks like a tourist because of all the "Napa Valley" t-shirts, when she has lived here for nigh on 30 years. Her entire closet right now is Aloha print or tourist t-shirts.
She has nowhere to go but up!
Okay, so I wore a rugby jersey today, and attracted all kinds of bad luck! I guess I needed the sweatpants to go with it?
Trakky daks! Trakky daks! I can't get used to the word "sweatpants" that's so... AMERICAN! (hahhaha, sorry!).
Trakky daks= Aussie for "Tracksuit pants". Don't ask, i don't know.
Now KOM, it was just my spychic ability that gave me a premonition about your manboobs. All the decent men of Australia have manboobs. It's a way of life, it's expected! I just thought that maybe just maybe... you had 'em.
*shrug* Trakky Daks ;)
This whole thing reminds me of that guy I saw while eating at Jonesy's wearing a leather jacket, leather chaps and grey sweatpants.
you sound like a big fat racist...
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