Posts Tagged ‘fashion’

Yeah, I said “retarded”, get over it. Anyway, how was your 4th of July? Did you blow your hand off like I said you would? I spent mine at Summerfest (big Milwaukee festival – food, drinks, mediocre music, yada yada). My wife, aware of my affinity for the ridiculous, pointed out one of the most asinine trends I have seen in a long time. My attention span was ruined for the rest of the day, I couldn’t believe what I was looking at.

So apparently this is a thing now – hiked up multi-colored NBA socks. Listen, I’m not “stylish”. I don’t “wear pants all of the time.” I never claim to “know what I look like when I leave the house.” Yes, my favorite shirt is one that reads “It’s not a beer belly, it’s a fuel tank for a sex machine”, but I would never be caught wearing some dumbass concoction of flamboyant eyesore shit like this.

This is coming from somebody who grew up in the city of Chicago, so I’ve seen my fair share of ridiculous trends but this one has me scratching my head. It honestly looks as if this guy asked his 3-year-old to put together his outfit for him. Even the 3-year-old probably giggled as he grabbed daddy’s yellow socks and black sneakers, thinking about how god damn stupid he was going to look. Much to my dismay, this cretinous collection of idiotic fashion statements were everywhere. Every direction I looked there were NBA socks: lime green, blaze orange, red, blue, most accompanied by shorts of the completely opposite color. I couldn’t prepare my camera phone quick enough to keep up with them all. I even snapped a picture while riding the sky deck.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more ridiculous, there they were:

Yep, socks and sandals, outdoors, in public.

I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry – I’m an equal opportunity observational retorter.

If there is anything I have learned from this, it’s that there is no such thing as “fashion.” The term perception is reality couldn’t be more true here. They really believe, in their heart of hearts, that they look cool (the same way these assholes do). All of these trends are just an example of what happens when enough people are willing to look as stupid as one person does. Who is responsible for this crap anyway? If anybody knows the origin of this nonsense, please, comment away. If I ever become rich and famous enough to carry this kind of influential power, I’m going to start wearing pants on my arms and shirts on my legs just to see how far they’ll go. The thing that really chaps my ass is that they’re not even doing anything original here, this is just a new spin on an old classic.

Still stupid, 50 years later

Here are a few more, because inconspicuously taking all these pictures was not easy.

I spent the long weekend convincing myself that this wasn’t an actual thing, but I’m afraid I might be wrong. Is this happening everywhere, or have I just been unlucky enough to now live in a place where it looks like the Easter Bunny threw up all over everybody’s feet?

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When the hell did this become an actual thing? I’m still trying to convince myself that this isn’t something that is really happening. I feel like, over night, every moron who listens to Jay-Z went out and bought one of these ridiculous hats simply to point out to the rest of us that they suck at life. You know how people who smell bad can’t ever smell themselves? These poor idiots don’t realize just how god damn stupid they look. I don’t get it, they actually put on this hat, look at themselves in the mirror and say, “Yup, good to go.”

I don’t know what I hate more, the flat brim, the fact that they’re 2 sizes too big, when they’re worn crooked or the giant flaming sticker that’s left on them. It’s a blessing in disguise, though, because that huge sticker can reflect the sunlight – acting as a shimmering signal to easily spot these asshats so we can avoid them. Do I have a good reason to hate these dumbass hats so much? Not really, but religion doesn’t have good reasons to spur hate and it compelled men to fly airplanes into the twin towers (just sayin’). They look like complete assholes, and some of these jerkoffs even leave the tags on. Yeah, no shit! I wish I was kidding.

"Straight cash homey!"

This should have been the redneck millionaire’s first purchase.

Still don’t hate these flagrant displays of douchebaggery? How about this:

I knew you’d see it my way.

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No, they’re sweatpants.

Posted: April 6, 2010 in Whatever
Tags: , , , ,

It’s not too often that men have the opportunity to cry foul over an injustice in regards to double standards, so I want to take this opportunity to do so. I’ve noticed this fashion trend making its way into our every day lives and now it’s beginning to sneak into our night life and places of work. I’ve had just about enough of this garbage so let me set up a scenario for you to help illustrate my point.

On a beautiful summer night my wife and I are getting ready to head out and meet friends for a few drinks. As she finishes up it’s not uncommon for me to hear, “You ready?” come resonating down the hallway. As I’m probably playing Xbox and my attention is fully focused on scoring the winning touchdown, the sound of her voice reaches my ear canal but enters my brain as “Play-action pass to Hester, but put him in the slot.” So I respond, “Yes, of course”. As I raise my hands in victory she emerges from the bedroom, ready to leave. After giving her a rousing celebratory high-five, her face begins to turn red with anger. “You’re still in your sweatpants?!” she exclaims. Shit… But this time I have a rebuttal. I’ve seen women wear sweatpants out to the bar, movie theater, dinner, and even work! I see this happening everywhere and I am totally fed up. They call them gauchos, but I’m calling them bullshit. If stretchy pants with an elastic waistband and bell bottoms aren’t sweatpants, then I’m going to start naming things whatever I want too. From her on out, boxers will now be named “Cucamongas” and I will wear my Cucamongas to the bar, grocery store, work or wherever else I damn well please.

The worst part is that women defend these things as if they honestly are an article of casual every day wear. I’m calling a spade a spade – they stretch and are without pockets, they’re sweatpants. You can bedazzle a jean jacket but they still aren’t allowed to be worn anywhere outside of the 80’s. I’ve heard this phrase more times than I like to admit: “They’re casual and comfortable.” Yeah? well so are sweats and pajama pants, but you don’t see me wearing Zubaz to work. Don’t spit on my cupcake and tell me it’s frosting (on a side note – if you ever spit on my cupcake, it’s grounds for maiming). Call them whatever you want because I’m not fooled, I’ll be wearing my Cucamongas.

Can you spot the difference? I can't

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Tuesday night my wife and I went to the Marquette/Louisville basketball game to watch our Alma mater lay the wood to the Cardinals 69-48.  The game was well in hand for our Golden Eagles most of the time so I had the opportunity to observe my surroundings and really take in the public spectacle that is a sporting event. We always find ourselves talking, laughing or complaining about “that guy” on the way home. During this particular match up it seemed that every fool in Milwaukee made his way to the Bradley Center with the sole intention of fulfilling a precise stereotype. They all came out to flaunt their insanity so I took as many mental notes as possible. The “drunk guy” and “stats guy” have been a little over done, so I wanted to take this time to let you in on my own personal short-list.

“The clap out of sync guy(s)”: I watched an entire student section clap in unison while a group of 4 kids were apparently trying to let us know just how white they were. It looked as though they couldn’t even hear the music blaring through the arena speakers and were just happy to be present to watch the big black guys they normally only see on T.V. One by one they slowly fell into line, but by that time they were too late – the song was over and one of them was too busy fumbling through his program. You can usually point these guys out without trying too hard, they generally look like children at Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch – dazzled, yet unsure and frightened.

“The overzealous screamer”: We were lucky enough to have one of these jack asses sitting right behind us, so I got a first hand look into the every thought of someone completely whacked out of her mind. She screamed at every call or non-call, good or bad play and most of the time belted out shit that just didn’t make any sense. Hurling comments like “T him up!” “move it around the perimeter!” and “Good boy!” when they didn’t apply and for apparently no reason at all. When I finally mustered up the courage to turn around and catch a glimpse of the boisterous bitch she was every bit as terrifying as I imagined.

“I’M OVER HERE!!!”: You know this asshole. He’s the guy standing up with a phone to his ear and one arm waving frantically in the air. It’s most likely that he is waving to the “out of sync clapping guys”, as I’m sure they go way back. He is another one of those ‘just happy to be here’ guys.

“Stand ‘n’ clap”: This person is almost always well over 300 pounds, and why not? It only makes sense that the one guy who can blot out the sun just loves to show his team spirit by eclipsing the stadium lights to clap for his team….through the entire god damn game. In our case he was decked in all yellow, which is funny all by itself.

“Jumbo tron sluts”: Some love ’em, some hate ’em but it’s tough to get through a game without seeing a pack of them. The usual M.O. for this group begins by them being caught on camera looking more apathetic than Paris Hilton trying to read a book. As soon as they detach their cheek from their boyfriend’s arm to find out theyve been spotted, LOOK OUT! it’s showtime! It’s almost automatic for them to gather in a Charlie’s Angles kind of pose or otherwise fighting over the 5 seconds of camera time. Another will undoubtedly be prepping her face for the patented lip pucker move. Another is definitely going to be seen in sunglasses even though we’re inside (because the sun never sets on cool, duh) and there is probably one girl encompassing the entire spectrum of douche bag in one fell swoop – and what neglected hussy would be complete without the famous ‘sideways peace sign’ to top it all off?

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