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Whinge.
AUGH. If I have to wear the brown sequined Mexican jacket because I can't find the black Spanish bolero jacket, and it throws off the whole primary color scheme of this outfit and kills the 50s pop overtones, I will scream. I'm mad I even need a jacket (cry the beloved ruined silhouette), but that second button down keeps popping open, and that skirts the edge of indecency: I seem to have brought too much Breast to this shirt/party.
I /guess/ I can wear the black silk bomber jacket, but fuck.
MY BOURGEOIS ANGST, LET ME SHOW U IT.
*EDIT: OH MY GOD, DO YOU KNOW I DIDN'T REALIZE I WAS ASKING FERGIE'S IMMORTAL QUESTION, 'WHATCHA GONNA DO WITH ALL THAT BREAST, ALL THAT BREAST INSIDE YOUR SHIRT?'? LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE ZEITGEIST LIVES IN MEEEEEEE*
I /guess/ I can wear the black silk bomber jacket, but fuck.
MY BOURGEOIS ANGST, LET ME SHOW U IT.
*EDIT: OH MY GOD, DO YOU KNOW I DIDN'T REALIZE I WAS ASKING FERGIE'S IMMORTAL QUESTION, 'WHATCHA GONNA DO WITH ALL THAT BREAST, ALL THAT BREAST INSIDE YOUR SHIRT?'? LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE ZEITGEIST LIVES IN MEEEEEEE*
really?
YA RLY
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P.S. No making fun of me next time I cry for wardrobe halp! before a concert, now. Going to see Lewis Black Aug. 8. (You should get tickets and come, if you won't be outta here by then.)
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oh god. I didn't even think of a safety pin.
...
wow, Erin. Wow.
Meh, I don't dislike Lewis Black, but I'd sooner not shell out for him? I dunno, something about the yelling really makes me feel socially uncomfortable watching him at home, I imagine I'd sadly squirm in my chair through a live show.
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His concerts are more fun than his TV stuff.