A LESSON IN STYLE
It seems that no matter where I go, people always stop to ask me where I get my snazzy outfits. Okay, so this never happens and there's really no reason why it should. There's nothing special about any of the clothes I have, except for the fact that I haven't bought any of them.
That's right, my parents buy my clothes. I know it's sad, but I can't stop them. Last week I came home to a Kohl's sack filled with three pairs of shorts and a shirt. Why should I waste my time and go out to buy my own clothes when my parents are perfectly content buying them for me? Sure they might not have the best taste, i.e. my dad thinks anything with the Starter logo on it is just kickass, but who I'm I to complain?
I guess my point is...well I have no point. I often have no point. It's part of my charm.
HOW DOES AN AVERAGE GUY LIKE ME BECOME THE NUMBER ONE LOVER-MAN IN HIS PARTICULAR POSTAL DISTRICT?
Let's get one thing straight...I hate those people who go on and on about their significant other as if the rest of the world gives a shit about how wonderful they are. The last think I want to do is become one of those guys. Well maybe not the last thing, but it's not exactly on my "to do" list.
Lately, however, I feel like I'm becoming one of those people. I'll be having a conversation with someone other than my girlfreind and all of a sudden I'm like "Yeah, me and Renee were talking the other day and (insert rest of sentence that nobody aside from me cares about)." I don't want to be that guy, but the truth is...I can't help it.
For one, she's the person that I spend the most time with. Well, the most intimate time with at any rate. I spend a shit load of time with other people but we mostly just recycle the same old conversations. And don't get me wrong, there's certainly nothing wrong with that, but you know what I mean.
The thing is, this girl is amazing, and I can't tell her that. She's put a blockade on all things sentimental. And I can't argue with her cause she's got the upper hand. So I'm forced to try to get other people to agree with me by telling them all the cutsy little things that she does. God bless my roommate for listening to me ramble on about her and responding with something akin to "That's great man. I'm really happy for you." If I were him I'd tell me to shut the hell up and make some reference to me sounding like the Crazy Wolf Girl.
So anyway, I appologizing in advance for any annoying remarks about my girlfriend. Sorry.
I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. Not like here. Here everything is soft and smooth.
It seems that no matter where I go, people always stop to ask me where I get my snazzy outfits. Okay, so this never happens and there's really no reason why it should. There's nothing special about any of the clothes I have, except for the fact that I haven't bought any of them.
That's right, my parents buy my clothes. I know it's sad, but I can't stop them. Last week I came home to a Kohl's sack filled with three pairs of shorts and a shirt. Why should I waste my time and go out to buy my own clothes when my parents are perfectly content buying them for me? Sure they might not have the best taste, i.e. my dad thinks anything with the Starter logo on it is just kickass, but who I'm I to complain?
I guess my point is...well I have no point. I often have no point. It's part of my charm.
HOW DOES AN AVERAGE GUY LIKE ME BECOME THE NUMBER ONE LOVER-MAN IN HIS PARTICULAR POSTAL DISTRICT?
Let's get one thing straight...I hate those people who go on and on about their significant other as if the rest of the world gives a shit about how wonderful they are. The last think I want to do is become one of those guys. Well maybe not the last thing, but it's not exactly on my "to do" list.
Lately, however, I feel like I'm becoming one of those people. I'll be having a conversation with someone other than my girlfreind and all of a sudden I'm like "Yeah, me and Renee were talking the other day and (insert rest of sentence that nobody aside from me cares about)." I don't want to be that guy, but the truth is...I can't help it.
For one, she's the person that I spend the most time with. Well, the most intimate time with at any rate. I spend a shit load of time with other people but we mostly just recycle the same old conversations. And don't get me wrong, there's certainly nothing wrong with that, but you know what I mean.
The thing is, this girl is amazing, and I can't tell her that. She's put a blockade on all things sentimental. And I can't argue with her cause she's got the upper hand. So I'm forced to try to get other people to agree with me by telling them all the cutsy little things that she does. God bless my roommate for listening to me ramble on about her and responding with something akin to "That's great man. I'm really happy for you." If I were him I'd tell me to shut the hell up and make some reference to me sounding like the Crazy Wolf Girl.
So anyway, I appologizing in advance for any annoying remarks about my girlfriend. Sorry.
I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. Not like here. Here everything is soft and smooth.
