I realized midday Thursday that the only pants I’d worn all week were the same pair of mesh shorts (except, semi-ironically, for gym time). Fuck those zippers and buttons, ya’ll, I roll drawstring style. I guess we all have our uniform, right? When I worked at Taco Bell, I sported brown polyester and a paper hat (later replaced by an edgy brown visor, but if you forgot your visor you had to go back to the paper hat for the day). In the navy, I had a literal uniform to wear. As a banker, I was Ferragamoed out on the accessory tip, Brooks Brothered up in the suit department (yeah, I never stepped up my suit game – I put those fuckers through hell, so BB made the most sense from a practical perspective) and you know how I do on ties. Now, it’s navy blue mesh shorts and one of many wine-stained tee shirts.
For unknown reasons, this looks causes a mix of disgusted glances and averted gazes from people I don’t even know while I’m waiting in line for food or large bottles of wine. Occasionally, I class it up a bit by adding a white adidas sweatsuit top to the mix. Someone tried to give me some spare change while I was waiting in line at the corner store (I told them to just come here and buy some shit on amazon instead). Didn’t he see the fucking rolex? Just because I bought my American flag flipflops for $3 at wal-mart doesn’t make me a charity case. Nor does the salt-encrusted hat, that’s from running laps in the park, not sleeping on subway grates. And I fucking hate shaving, the worst three minutes of every third or fourth day for me.
I guess the message I’m trying to impart is: clothes don’t necessarily make the idle man, comfort does. (That’s a saying, right? Clothes make the man? That sounds like something my mom used to say when she was yelling at me for wearing inappropriate attire to a job interview. At a whirlpool factory where the summer temperature averaged 110 in the – no shit – aluminum building. Thank god I offended the hiring manager by wearing white bucks and no socks.) Have I not labored enough in my previous professional incarnations to justify a little drawstring joy? It’s not like I’m rocking a snuggie out on the town. One of the perks of being a struggling blogger/trader is wearing comfortable clothing in the comfort of your own (or someone else’s) home. (And, being the first in line at Dos Toros taqueria, because you can leave home right at 11:05 and are not constrained by some dipshit colleague’s “appropriate lunch hour” convention. Aside: I’m seriously considering going from carnitas burrito/carne asada taco to carne asada burrito/carnitas taco – stay tuned.)
So the next time you see some guy wearing mesh shorts and a windbreaker, talking to himself on the corner, don’t reflexively try to give him the second half of your five dollar footlong. Instead, go buy some RIMM shares, so the poor bastard’s Iron Condors will expire and he doesn’t have to spend a bunch of dough on needless commissions to unwind that trash.
Exciting New Wastedpotentialz.com Feature: Would Flint Hit It?
Commentor Flintstone has never been shy about offering his opinion about the ladies discussed on this site. That’s ‘opinion’ as in singular; his system is pretty much binary: “I’d hit it”/”I would not hit it”. Given his stance on Jessica Simpson’s breath, Lady Gaga’s possible penis and other matters, I’ve come to recognize Flint as a quality arbiter of unlikely celebrity sex decisions. (Note: If you find the last sentence offensive, just substitute “celebrity lovemaking decisions” to ease your discomfort.) While his overall stance seems to be pro-“hitting it”, that probably mirrors our society’s loose social mores.
So I’m going to try and use Flint’s judgment to find the absolute midpoint of hitting/not-hitting it. There won’t be any Angelinas or Megans up in this discussion, this is all about the juicy middle. So, first up: Old School, Chubby Ricki Lake. Flint, would you hit it?
(Please note that this is a hypothetical hitting it situation that would require a time machine or at least a vivid imagination and several shared high calorie meals. I’m trying to establish some historical perspective here.)
Old School, Chubby Ricki Lake — a very interesting question Chilly. On the surface it seems like you gave me softball question, but there are many subtle layers here. First, in order to understand me you have to know that unlike your most of your readers a little extra “lbs” on a woman isn’t a deal breaker (or even a negative) for me. In fact, I like my women with curves. Now, I’m not as bad as one of my uncles who told me that “the only thing a skinny woman can do for me is cook”, but generally I’d prefer Christina Hendricks to the many waifish starlets out there. Second thing you need to know about me is that I drink a lot (especially when I was single as this question assumes). While I don’t drink as much you Chilly, I have had my share of nights I can’t remember. So it must said that after my 10th scotch anything female and warm would pass the “I’d hit test.” Finally, I am unabashed starf***er. So if the opportunity would have presented itself where I could have bumped uglies with Ricki (after she gained fame in Hairspray) or just about any other female celebrity I probably would have done it just for the story. As such, I’m going to take “would Flint hit it” test as “Would I approach said woman (even if they weren’t famous) and actively try to bring her back to my place for some adult fun?” (From a historical perspective of course.)
Now that we have the ground rules established lets take a look at Old School Ricki or as I shall call her “Hairspray Ricki” using my standards (and yes I have some) on scale of 1 to 10:
Face (5) — I think Ricki’s face is “girl next door cute.” She’s not a knock-out but definitely not homely.
Body (4) — Wikipedia says she maxed out at 260 and that would be too much for me (although in my younger days I would have still been able to bench press her). Now, I’ve been unable to find any pictures that look 260 to me so I’m going to go with she was about 200/210 during Hairspray. That’s definitely not a healthy weight but not a deal breaker.
Personality (7) — In Hairspray she seemed nice (even bubbly) and the picture you have of her definitely looks approachable.
Intangibles (8) — This category is hard to quantify but in Hairspray she had some good dance moves, plus any woman who’s willing to make a video of herself delivering a baby for the public is definitely not shy and probably willing to try new things in the bedroom (if you know what I mean).
Average that all out and you get a 6. Not great but still very doable.
(Editor’s Note: Thanks, Flint. Your knowledge of hairspray is somewhat concerning, but your internal consensus-building process is impeccable. Agree with your assessment that she was freaky in the sack back in the day; definitely a contentious debate at the time. I will have a tougher challenge for you in the coming days.)
The combination of half-marathon preparation, market gyration and weak idea generation is a killer. Ironically, the lazier I get, the more people come to this site, yesterday had the highest amount of search engine traffic I’ve seen. Although, sadly, most of it was fetishists looking for blister porn. Sigh….
Enjoy the weekend,