Monday, February 13, 2012
Yes, I've let this one chap my ass. And it's got me feeling kinda mean. In a Billy Reid Alabama McNairy kinda way. It wouldn't take much to get me to pop. Disagree on the heirloom thang? Fine. Have mama bring you over to Old Town Alexandria and we'll work it out. And when you wake up, that little heirloom artisanal heritage outfit you have on will be back in style. And surely mama can hand-wash your hand-made four hundred dollar Sandra Dee Big Cuffed blue jeans and get all of the ADG induced fear-poo out of the seat.
Come on. We're banging five-feet nine and a hundred and fifty eight (I'm three-heavy...it's February for God's sake) pounds over here. Meet me at one of the eleven Starbucks in Old Town and I'll beat you like a borrowed mule. You'll recognize me. I'll be the little guy. Wearing Kilim slippers and Flusser challis print trews with cowboys on 'em. Stetson waving bucking bronco cowboys.