Shoddy Presents
I have an aunt who for many years would send me the same christmas present every year. A Biro. Each year I wrote inevitable "Thankyou so much for the Biro. I am using it to write this letter" letter, each year a new one arrived.
Tell us all about the rubbish that has been foisted upon you over the years.
( , Thu 23 Sep 2004, 10:14)
I have an aunt who for many years would send me the same christmas present every year. A Biro. Each year I wrote inevitable "Thankyou so much for the Biro. I am using it to write this letter" letter, each year a new one arrived.
Tell us all about the rubbish that has been foisted upon you over the years.
( , Thu 23 Sep 2004, 10:14)
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The Dockers
In the mid-90's I lived in Southern California and had a penchant for wearing tacky, loud clubwear, knob that I was. My girlfriend at the time, a Mexican named Grisiela, hated my taste in clothing. She constantly begged me to dress in her words "like a more grown-up". "I want to see you in the Dockers," she would frequently say.
I, the smug fashionplate, would just laugh at her pleas.
One July morning I awoke to find a package from Mexico for my birthday. Sure enough, Grisiela had sent me "the Dockers", bright blue, a shade shy of neon. For S&G's I tried them on. They were truly the most heinous article of clothing I'd ever worn up to that time. The pants were about two sizes too small, such that the zipped fly was stretched almost to the breaking point. What's more, they were clearly retreads, as they were highlighted with numerous bleached streaks indicative of sloppy laundering.
Grisiela never saw me in "the Dockers". We split up shortly after when she was impregnated by a Dutch tourist.
I'll bet they wear "the Dockers" with pride in Holland...
( , Sat 25 Sep 2004, 8:00, Reply)
In the mid-90's I lived in Southern California and had a penchant for wearing tacky, loud clubwear, knob that I was. My girlfriend at the time, a Mexican named Grisiela, hated my taste in clothing. She constantly begged me to dress in her words "like a more grown-up". "I want to see you in the Dockers," she would frequently say.
I, the smug fashionplate, would just laugh at her pleas.
One July morning I awoke to find a package from Mexico for my birthday. Sure enough, Grisiela had sent me "the Dockers", bright blue, a shade shy of neon. For S&G's I tried them on. They were truly the most heinous article of clothing I'd ever worn up to that time. The pants were about two sizes too small, such that the zipped fly was stretched almost to the breaking point. What's more, they were clearly retreads, as they were highlighted with numerous bleached streaks indicative of sloppy laundering.
Grisiela never saw me in "the Dockers". We split up shortly after when she was impregnated by a Dutch tourist.
I'll bet they wear "the Dockers" with pride in Holland...
( , Sat 25 Sep 2004, 8:00, Reply)
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