Subject: Size 14 Pumps and A Righteous Cudgel

Date: 26 Mar 1999 00:00:00 GMT

From: hellpope_huey@my-dejanews.com

Organization: Deja News - The Leader in Internet Discussion

Newsgroups: alt.slack

 

 

I'd rather sneeze with a mouthful of oatmeal at a power breakfast than shop

for clothing. To begin with, I'm a football-player-sized guy without a

football-player-sized budget, so that's a problem in itself. For another,

until I discovered the big guys catalog at J.C. Penney's, God bless 'em,

there was essentially no place to go for pants unless I wanted to resign

myself to wearing bib overalls from the Junior Samples Hee Haw Collection.

 

As a rule, upon requesting a size that would keep my dermis under wraps without

cutting off the blood flow to my unmentionables, I've been looked at as

though I had arrived at a PTA meeting wearing a necklace of half-cured human

fingers. I've often wanted to pound you sniggering 5'8", 34/28 salesguys into

the ground like fence posts for your effrontery. I don't really care to go

through life in a toga; I just want a little service and clothing that I can

wear without looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy in a thong, okay? I'm not

necessarily looking for a hand-made, double-stitched Italian suit with a

secret inner flap made to hold a 9mm pistol, which I might have used a few

times under the described circumstances. No outright murder, though; an

in-and-out shot through one buttock would suffice. I have a large charge for

you manufacturers and retailers: there's a whole world full of men like

myself in raggedy pants featuring pockets full of cash that YOU AREN'T

GETTING because your waist sizes all stop at 36. Get real! Thanks to really

top-notch American-style nutrition and snack foods featuring Commie appetite

stimulants to boost sales even further, there are a lot fewer jockey-sized

guys around than there were in 1927. Meatier behinds like mine shouldn't be a

threat to the community just because those useless "non-roll" waistband

doohickeys are about to explode under pressure. Someone could lose an eye.

Shoes are yet another boil on the butt of my life. I was really hoping to

stop growing at a 12D, but my father must have offended the village witch,

because I slid up to a 13E, neat as you please. *Sigh* ATTENTION, SHOE

SALESMEN! The Lord GAVE me these feet! I didn't grow them to offend YOU! I'd

just as soon plant the tip of one of these big boss babies in your hiney and

heave you out the door as take your guff! I do all I can to offset this

problem by going barefoot around the house a lot, even in the winter. I avoid

this practice elsewhere as needed so as not to offend the occasional host,

although many of MY type of person is ALSO going barefooted. We're just

pagans, what can I say. Part of my podiatric problem comes in the form of

feet that ooze so much oil, you could wring out my socks and top off your

crankcase. Strangely enough, I don't seem to have half the problem with

stinkfoot that other guys do, but when you can't even wear sandals without

slicking them up and sliding around like a drunken Hart delegate, you have

things on your mind besides odor prophylaxis. Of course, I'm not immune to

accidentally wearing a pair of socks twice from time to time, after which

they become dangerous. If I don't soak them pretty shortly hereafter, they

take on a ninja throwing star aspect, becoming crusty, sharp-edged and

intimidating. If you pick them up just so and fling 'em like a Frisbee, you

can do some real damage. I use Odor Beavers in this battle, but I find their

cries of "Oh Dear God, let us OUT of here!" so pitiful, its hard to be

consistent. They can only do so much. I'd love some Incredible Hulk socks,

but there's that size problem, darnit. By the way, I'm against slavery in

any form, as you should be, so buy tennis shoes made in the U.S. when you

can. Besides, I'm so pigeon-toed, my tennies are gonna be turned at the heels

within 3 months no matter what I do, so there weren't any obscenely-priced

Nikes in my future anyway. If you need street status so badly you think shoes

are going turn the tide somehow, please don't reproduce. Thanks, slackjaw. I

CAN get underwear in my size with no difficulty, (and aren't you glad) so

what's the deal with all the other stuff? I'm not someone who would wear a

white belt under normal circumstances, but if its a choice between those army

surplus Boy Scout style things that would tip half-mad ME over the edge

completely and emergency fan belts for road repair equipment, I'll take what

I can get. Surely there's a cow somewhere with a whole strip on 'em long

enough to accomodate me. What's the $@#!? deal here, anyway? I know better

than to wear red silk harem pants for all the obvious reasons and I naturally

avoid screaming yellows so as to avoid scaring the other patrons as I careen

around the local shopping malls, searching in vain for these goodies. Still,

I'd like to have a few choices in my color scheme besides black, gray and

navy blue. I just want some rich, royal reds, vibrant torquoises and creamy

yellows so I can keep my Superman thing going. Is that so much to ask? I have

something that passes for taste, so I'm not really on the prowl for anything

in neon fractal patterns, although I could go for a couple of those Hawaiian

numbers, just on principle. My wife is really handy with a needle and thread,

so you might see me in a loud vest featuring dinosaurs or TeleTubbies, just

as low-grade revenge on you gorks for the things you've subjected ME to over

the years. Get a MIRROR, willya? During the winter, all bets are off

because..well, because its WINTER. It would be nice if you could look snazzy,

but we aren't usually on the ski slopes; we're leaning into a high wind,

trying to keep our scrogies from freezing clean OFF. If you have to wear

two-thirds of everything you own and look like the Michelin Tire Man to make

this happen, so be it. The sort of cold that makes ear lobes fall off in

CHUNKS can be blowing from a lake near Chicago or arrive with a freak storm

in Georgia and your ears won't care. Wear those Minnesotan ear flap specials

and if anyone laughs, show them that frozen middle digit. You're also free to

wear mega-mukluks, big ol' floppy boots, hip waders wrapped in Hefty bags or

anything else that keeps the wetter aspects of the season at bay, foot-wise.

Old Man WINTER gives not one thin damn if you lose a toe, so fight back and

screw how it looks. On the flip side of seasonal wear, please remember that

just because Spring arrives is no excuse for slapping on the most grotesque

T-shirts you can find. For instance, I will laugh at, but refuse to

personally wear, such delights as the one where a dog has a pink bubble

growing from his fanny and the young master is saying "You've been eating my

gum again, haven't you?" I could tolerate the shirts that say "Ask me about

my dysfunctional family" or "Does anal-retentive have a hyphen?," but even

the good sayings wear thin long before the shirts do, so choose carefully. I

REALLY hate shirts printed with these questionable delights: sports

promotions of any kind, get a life, damnit; cigarette ads featuring sexy,

rugged, healthy folks who'll look like shriveled lungfish after 20 years of

using the product promoted; musical entities who are either WAY overhyped

relative to their actual talent level or who sound something like God raking

his nails over the biggest blackboard in the Universe; and alcohol in its

many colorful forms, which as we know, makes you smart, glamorous and

desirable. Gee, that doesn't leave much, does it? Sorry. You cattle who wear

clothing emblazoned with the logo of the clothing manufacturer lose extra

points for being bovine trendmongers. Also, I resent your assumption that I'd

be impressed by your faux trendiness. Its bad enough that you're falling for

this stuff, but to think swallowing the practice at its lowest level makes

you cool is tres pathetique, oui oui. I know you're going to wear this crap

no matter what I say, but then, I'm the guy who once wore a T-shirt randomly

printed with 8-inch long COCKROACHES. Talk about making people flinch! You'd

be amazed at what will clear you a really wide berth in a mall. I also had

one featuring a line of men dressed in the regalia of their respective

professions, linked arm in arm and marching happily forward over the

statement "Bend Over and Take It Like A Man." Hey, at the time, I lived in

that kind of neighborhood. All it took to function was the nerve, at least $5

in change and a stun gun. I AM glad I can have a couple of "Bob" shirts to

wear when the moon is full; I'm sure its caused a couple of the local drunks

to miss me when they were out for their evening drive. Of course, I'm one

hell of a target when dressed in a black SUIT, but every little bit helps. I

also think they have some slight mystical powers. I was in a bar once and had

a woman next to me try to throw a drink in her date's face. He ducked and it

woulda hit me, but the booze mysteriously did a complete dogleg and hit a guy

BEHIND me. That was worth the $15 right there. Some fairly neutral models

include animals or nature scenes, really esoteric business logos, such as

companies that make aircraft parts, most TV shows or movies, non-obscene

political or social beliefs, within reason, (this may be a hard call to make,

actually, but as long as you don't get beat up...) and UPC blocks. There are

a few superhero shirts that can pass muster because they're halfway in their

natural element when presented that way, but I think you should come up with

a more creative touch where you can. I plan to purchase one featuring an

Indian chief in full dress and add to it the comment"Oh CRAP! Here come the

White Men!" Hats are not only out of fashion for the time being; most of

them make you look like a goober, period. I look like an unshaved mutant

gorilla as it is and don't need to encourage the weasel contingent to laugh

more openly at my appearance by wearing a bowler. When debating the purchase

of a new chapeau, consider these points: Hats featuring beer holders,

propellers or wiggling antennae are obviously special-purpose wear, but

porkpie hats and berets on anyone but art school girls are RIGHT OUT! Brrr!

Anyone wearing a hat crafted to resemble a condom should be avoided at all

costs; they're either stupid, dangerous or both and generally make poor

dating/mating candidates. As a rule, tractor caps make you look like you've

just swung down from the family tree, so avoid them, especially the ones

featuring cute sayings like "Old Fart" unless A) you are DRIVING a tractor B)

are required to wear it as part of a job or C) it matters not, because you

ARE an old fart. (The image of an OLD fart is that of a particular one saved

in a Ziploc bag, which is more hideous than an ooky nasty Argento horror

flick.) Teenagers can do whatever they want, which is another problem and

another essay completely, but floppy Cat In the Hat models and the like

aren't without their charm, so I can write that off as youthful folly, such

as the slightly pornographic, high pink, quasi-penile homemade bishop's miter

I once wore to horrify the Normals. And just so you don't think I forgot the

ladies...in reference to women's wear, allow me to smile and say that A)

you're looking really lovely B) you'll sure make all the other women jealous

tonight and/or C) those shoes are the cherry on the sundae. I may be a

smartass and a MAN, but I'm not a damned fool. Besides, the shoes actually

work. By the way, I know its hot, but if you have legs that make dogs

snicker under their breath and a buncha botched tatoos, try to avoid shorts,

okay? And whether male or female, no brightly-colored stretch pants if you

have a butt more than 2 axehandles wide, please? Oh God, I'm blind, I'm

blind!! Well, at least it doesn't matter what I wear now.

 

HellPope Huey, Radio Doktor, SynthMeister,

'Righter, Frop-Tester, 1st-Class SexHurtMaster

& Dobbster since 1981

"aS CrAzY aS yOu & tWiCe aS dAnGeRoUS wItHouT MeDiCaTioN"