a flashback to the good days…the 80's
Behold, the first-ever guest blogger on this here blog!! Please give it up for Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
a flashback to the good days...the 80's
I know you cringe at the mention of the 80's. Any of us folk who grew up during that inexplicable time period knows exactly what I’m talking about. Oh yes, you do! The Keds. The triple-sock-style. Acid washed jeans. Aqua Net. Oh, f'in Aqua Net! I used to go through a half of a can of that toxic crap in one morning while frying my sweet ringlets straight so that I can achieve that ever so desirable 'fanned out style'...which if you remember, resembled nothing other than a goddamn peacock sitting on the top of a human head. Combine that sexy look with blue mascara, blue eyeliner, red lipstick and you have your own personal, circus freak-show. That was me. I went to school like that every day and no one ever told me how terrible I looked. I wonder now, WHY didn't anyone tell me how terrible I looked? But hey, I was only 15 so it's okay, right? RIGHT?! Anyway, I think back now to the days when my parents ruled my financial existence. What a nightmare. They never bought me anything that was even kinda cool. No, I had to live the sad life as an outcast; a full on nerd-ass geek. And boy, did I get shit for that. My poor self-esteem is still recovering from that traumatic time. My parents insisted on only buying me practical clothing...and while in ever so stylish Sears or J.C. Penny's they would loudly declare their stipulation that if they were to buy me that ugly Coca Cola t-shirt, was I sure I really liked it? Was I sure I would wear it at least 3 days out of the week? My face burning with embarrassment would say, yes, yes, anything you want, just stop...please stop yelling loudly in the J.C. Penny dressing room...which had no separate dressing rooms...while I cowered in the corner taking off my shirt to try on that ugly Coca Cola tee. Oh, I remember those days well. My parents decided that at the ripe age 15 they need not support me so much anymore. So, cool clothes were out of the question. Now unfortunately for me, this was during the time when stirrup pants and Keds were all the rage. Would my parents buy me those ultra cool items? No. I had to suffer with knock-offs. Then one day...one fine day when I was up to my ears with being a nerd, I somehow ended up in a shoe store with a razor blade in my pocket and my eyes focused on the blue tabs of those damn Keds. "Yea, I’ll just slice of two of those little blue tabs...a little Crazy Glue and bam!! I'm f'in cool." I never did go through with my plan... mostly because I chickened out when I noticed the store clerks were eyeing me. But the Keds were just the beginning of the madness. In my mind, the stirrup pants were the real prize. Oh, how badly I wanted those stirrup pants. I wanted them so bad that visions of staples and the elastic band of a pair sweat pants started to flow sweetly through my warped mind. Oh, I WILL get me some of those stirrup pants! I will! So, I ravaged through my closet and pulled out a pair of sweat pants. Scissor in hand, eyes crazed with desire, I sliced through the waistband. The elastic was waiting for me...wanting me to staple it to the ends of my black leggings...no one will notice, right? I did it. I went through the whole sick process of stapling the shitty, ragged edged elastic band to the ends of my leggings. I stayed up late that night crafting my creation. I could hardly sleep. I was filled with the excitement with the thought of leaving my house with my stapled stirrups. I would finally be cool... and I was cool... at least in my world... until the staples started to bust. They let me down. They exploded out and left me with hanging, ragged elastic bands. Something had gone horribly wrong. Horribly wrong! This was not supposed to happen! Not to me! My plan had been cruelly exposed! I remember begging my teachers to borrow their stapler. But it was too late. They saw. The cool kids saw. It was all over. I was now not just a nerd but a freak too. And oh, if I only knew what the future would bring...
Up next: My decision to cut my own hair. I mean, what's a few bald spots anyway? Stay tuned for details.
a flashback to the good days...the 80's
I know you cringe at the mention of the 80's. Any of us folk who grew up during that inexplicable time period knows exactly what I’m talking about. Oh yes, you do! The Keds. The triple-sock-style. Acid washed jeans. Aqua Net. Oh, f'in Aqua Net! I used to go through a half of a can of that toxic crap in one morning while frying my sweet ringlets straight so that I can achieve that ever so desirable 'fanned out style'...which if you remember, resembled nothing other than a goddamn peacock sitting on the top of a human head. Combine that sexy look with blue mascara, blue eyeliner, red lipstick and you have your own personal, circus freak-show. That was me. I went to school like that every day and no one ever told me how terrible I looked. I wonder now, WHY didn't anyone tell me how terrible I looked? But hey, I was only 15 so it's okay, right? RIGHT?! Anyway, I think back now to the days when my parents ruled my financial existence. What a nightmare. They never bought me anything that was even kinda cool. No, I had to live the sad life as an outcast; a full on nerd-ass geek. And boy, did I get shit for that. My poor self-esteem is still recovering from that traumatic time. My parents insisted on only buying me practical clothing...and while in ever so stylish Sears or J.C. Penny's they would loudly declare their stipulation that if they were to buy me that ugly Coca Cola t-shirt, was I sure I really liked it? Was I sure I would wear it at least 3 days out of the week? My face burning with embarrassment would say, yes, yes, anything you want, just stop...please stop yelling loudly in the J.C. Penny dressing room...which had no separate dressing rooms...while I cowered in the corner taking off my shirt to try on that ugly Coca Cola tee. Oh, I remember those days well. My parents decided that at the ripe age 15 they need not support me so much anymore. So, cool clothes were out of the question. Now unfortunately for me, this was during the time when stirrup pants and Keds were all the rage. Would my parents buy me those ultra cool items? No. I had to suffer with knock-offs. Then one day...one fine day when I was up to my ears with being a nerd, I somehow ended up in a shoe store with a razor blade in my pocket and my eyes focused on the blue tabs of those damn Keds. "Yea, I’ll just slice of two of those little blue tabs...a little Crazy Glue and bam!! I'm f'in cool." I never did go through with my plan... mostly because I chickened out when I noticed the store clerks were eyeing me. But the Keds were just the beginning of the madness. In my mind, the stirrup pants were the real prize. Oh, how badly I wanted those stirrup pants. I wanted them so bad that visions of staples and the elastic band of a pair sweat pants started to flow sweetly through my warped mind. Oh, I WILL get me some of those stirrup pants! I will! So, I ravaged through my closet and pulled out a pair of sweat pants. Scissor in hand, eyes crazed with desire, I sliced through the waistband. The elastic was waiting for me...wanting me to staple it to the ends of my black leggings...no one will notice, right? I did it. I went through the whole sick process of stapling the shitty, ragged edged elastic band to the ends of my leggings. I stayed up late that night crafting my creation. I could hardly sleep. I was filled with the excitement with the thought of leaving my house with my stapled stirrups. I would finally be cool... and I was cool... at least in my world... until the staples started to bust. They let me down. They exploded out and left me with hanging, ragged elastic bands. Something had gone horribly wrong. Horribly wrong! This was not supposed to happen! Not to me! My plan had been cruelly exposed! I remember begging my teachers to borrow their stapler. But it was too late. They saw. The cool kids saw. It was all over. I was now not just a nerd but a freak too. And oh, if I only knew what the future would bring...
Up next: My decision to cut my own hair. I mean, what's a few bald spots anyway? Stay tuned for details.
posted by supah @ 8:17 PM :: permalink :: ::
