I believe the line that follows that one would be: "I'm just going to make some fast money and I'll be out of there by finals! Tee-hee!!!" ...BULLSHEEEEEEEIT!!!! I am higher than a king snake in a sugar cane tree.
Or, they get to cap off their night by having a biker pick them up by the ankles and shake them like a paint mixer until all the money falls out. Good times. Is it just me or has the Charlie Sheen thing already played itself out? "Winning" is slated to the be the next "Where's the Beef?" and "I'm Rick James, Bitch!" in no time flat. Idiots are yelling it everywhere in public. Creepy self-destruction is the greatest P.R. on earth. He's from California, can't he just kill a blonde chick like everyone else out there?
A) Who informed women that it was acceptable to wear your hair as a loose bun on the very top of your head? Jesus. I'm not the kind of guy who pays much attention to peoples' appearances, but there's something unsettling about putting your hair in such a way that your only goal seems to be keeping it as far away from your shoulders as possible. B) If women are going to act like harpies re-enacting Sex and the City in public, the least they could do is remove themselves to a quiet corner of a restaurant. I don't want to have to listen to "Do you remember the yellow dress that [celebrity] wore two years ago?" "Oh my gawwwwd, yes." "Yeah, I would LOVE to have that for my wedding dress."; or "Oh my god, having brightly coloured shoes with those tops at your wedding would be soooo you." C) Playing Fellini films with loud jazz over top... why? Having actually watched a Fellini film, well, come on. They're awesome. Don't cover them up. At least have subtitles going. Better than listening to harpies go on about how you love each person different and you're going to find someone special again and you're going to fall in love but it won't be the same kind of love as you had with Mark.
They might be cute on two year olds. And two years olds are still largely decorative in nature anyways. Nonetheless, women mostly dress and doll themselves up for other women, rather than men. Men don't notice the difference. And a top knot? Jesus. A top knot tells me that you had the time to form your hair into something other than what it was when you woke up, but not the attention span to see what you'd done with it. The only comparison I can think of would be a man wearing a tie with a crappy knot: you went to the effort of selecting a tie, throwing it around your neck, and tying it up, but the fact you didn't bother to do it properly makes it look worse than if you had simply not tried at all. And I am a fucking stickler about ties, if worn, looking proper.
Generally, when I wear a top knot out in public, it's because I slept wearing one the night before so my hair wouldn't get in my way in bed. Also, it is more fun to dress for a woman or a gay man than straight men. Most straight men are not going to appreciate my Helmut Lang cropped drop-crotch pants or silk high-waisted shorts.
Weird day. I'm pretty sure this asian girl (whose English was somewhat questionable) was flirting with me. I also think she was like 16, which made me feel all kinds of creepy. Then I played some basketball. Good games. Had one game where it all came together: two putbacks, posted up once, pulled up from just inside of half court (small court), and, for the first time in a very long time, managed a putback dunk. Shit was banananananananananan. Later, my roommate confessed that she needs to get fucked, but doesn't have time for a relationship. Anybody wanna make an appointment with a cute blonde stoner-type once a week or so? I'll forward your application. Everybody in ma house gettin' tipsy.
Word.... they'll be too busy creeping you out by trying to read that billboard you've tattooed on your shoulder.
Generally, I wear a top knot because the Dude Du Jour has fucked my hair into a veritable rats nest and I'm afraid of touching the thing without gallons of conditioner. Solution: Throw that shit into a messy updo, can now grab lunch without looking homeless. Win! Haters can lick my just-fucked pussy and be extremely jealous about all of the sex I'm having. Serious question, Jenn (and I swear I'm not picking on you, k?)- you actually bought a pair of Helmut Lang drop-crotch pants? And...wear them? In public?