May I call you Dude?
Dude, did you know that cowboy boots make a man walk just a little bit like a woman in "fuck me" heels? It's true. They make a man clip-clop along like a homecoming queen after a few drinks, but just before the pretty dress comes off. But that's fine. This is Texas, after all, so you expect to see a man or two walking around in his finest Sunday boots.
The black jeans, not really a problem. Black boots and black jeans, a little more color-coordinated than your average cowboy usually cares for, but not really a big issue.
But as for that pink shirt ...
Girlfriend, no man wears a pink shirt like that, especially with the little clip-clop boots and the overly neat beardlette doo dad you got going there. Nobody, that is, but a cowboy looking to be ridden like a mare in heat by a strapping young stallion. I realize that the whole world has recently lost its' mind and declared gay to be the new black, but this is just too much gay. I'm guessing you pulled up in a red Chrysler convertible, or maybe a red Dodge Ram truck with frilly crap hanging from the rear-view mirror and a pink triangle on the rear bumper. Either way, the shirt is too much gay and you're much too fugly for Office Max. Go home and change.
Now let's away from the Office Max and head on down the road to Hooters, where desperate young men and even more desperate old men go to have hot, sexy 18-year-old girls pretend to pay attention to them while bending over, stroking their hair, and adjusting their bras a lot. I can't criticize. It works too well. I giggled like a moron while Lauren adjusted her bra for the hundredth time and told me I reminded her of "that guy from American Idol who won a few seasons ago."
"What, you mean that old guy with gray hair?!"
"He's not old. He's like 25 or 26."
"But you do mean him?"
Yes, THAT'S what I was hoping to hear, that I remind a hot Hooters girl of THAT guy. Shit. As if I didn't feel bad enough about the Fred Flintstone-like physique I've obtained after skipping the gym for over a year.
Anyway, moving past waitress Lauren's apparently unintentional slam of me, we come to the topic of what the boys are wearing to attract the girls, especially at Hooters where the hormones are a-flyin'.
We pointed Lauren's attention to some guys sitting next to us who seemed to have come under the impression that a boy attracts a girl by showing her his underpants and asked Lauren if this did it for her.
I see London, I see France, I see fugly underpants
"That's just dumb," Lauren said. "But that one guy next to him used to date one of the girls here. She said he was the nastiest guy she's ever been with."
Just as Lauren was reassuring us that pants half down and boxers hanging out is way out of fashion, 2 very sexy girls came in and sat down with the boys in the falling down pants.
"Ooooh, say it isn't so!" I lamented jealously into my beer, as Lauren moved her attention to the gentlemen sitting behind me. Those geniuses, having had way too much beer, paid her $50 to sign her own shirt, strip it off, and give it to them. They then tipped her another $40, bringing the price of her undersized shirt to $90.
Despite the two smoking hot girls who came and sat with the butt-boys, this ass-crack fashion among the Forth Worth boys club has got to go. It's fugly and even more than that, it's just dumb.
Liq-O-Rama - A Women's Only Club
The weather in Forth Worth has been fugly, too, but only at times when it didn't really matter, such as while we were indoors at work and then later that night after the Hooters girls kicked us out and told us to go home and take our Geritol because they were closing for the night.
While I was in Hooters, which was really loud, but didn't seem it at the time, I missed 2 phone calls from My Wife, and one from Kami, who even texted me first to let me know that the number she was calling me from wasn't the same number she had given me previously. The caller ID showed "Troy Aikman", whomever that is. I did manage to finally get in touch with her later that night, though, calling her home at almost exactly 10 p.m. and proving once and for all that I have no class or consideration whatsoever. But she was nice about it and it was fun to talk to her, although I must confess, I suddenly found myself without a single funny thing to say.
Stevie Ray Vaughan weather
So anyway, that was today's fun and adventure here in the city of beautiful Texas women and pink cowboys.
On a side note, last night, as I was writing this, a huge storm rolled in, and a bolt of lightning hit a train here in Forth Worth, setting it on fire. They don't mess around in Texas. Even the weather is larger than life.
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