So Flavor Flav Makes Handbags Now ...
Baltimore is a great city for people watching. All sorts ugly, stupid and just what the fuck out on parade all day long. Which is fun for people like me, because I love doing that, its a little hobby of mine. And I saw something today that I think takes the prize (and really, if you guys think you got something worse, please lay it on me).
Renee and I are at the mall in the Harbor, we see these two women coming up the escalator and walk passed us toward the next escalator. The woman in the lead was white, about seventy years old, wearing this small black top and tight black pants, all way too tight and look like it was meant for a much younger woman. Plus she was wearing three of those thick, gaudy fake gold chains, one of which had what I guess is her name spelled out in huge gold cursive letters (a must have accessory for that ghetto chic look that just dominates here in this city; perhaps one of these days someone will explain to me just what is so fucking cool about that).
That got me and Renee looking at each other, indeed that was bad enough. Then they walked by us, the younger woman who I assume was ghetto granny's daughter, was pulling a small cart behind her with a couple of bags stacked on it. I noticed the leopard print handbag on the pile, as I am of the opinion that nothing makes you look trashy quite like leopard print.
As they were going up the escalator, I caught the view of the bag from the front.
it had a fucking clock in it.
A huge fucking wall sized clock built in on the side of their leopard print handbag.
What the fuck? Why? Why would you make that?
I think its going to be a long time, even around here, before I see any alleged fashion that is quite that fucking stupid.
Renee and I are at the mall in the Harbor, we see these two women coming up the escalator and walk passed us toward the next escalator. The woman in the lead was white, about seventy years old, wearing this small black top and tight black pants, all way too tight and look like it was meant for a much younger woman. Plus she was wearing three of those thick, gaudy fake gold chains, one of which had what I guess is her name spelled out in huge gold cursive letters (a must have accessory for that ghetto chic look that just dominates here in this city; perhaps one of these days someone will explain to me just what is so fucking cool about that).
That got me and Renee looking at each other, indeed that was bad enough. Then they walked by us, the younger woman who I assume was ghetto granny's daughter, was pulling a small cart behind her with a couple of bags stacked on it. I noticed the leopard print handbag on the pile, as I am of the opinion that nothing makes you look trashy quite like leopard print.
As they were going up the escalator, I caught the view of the bag from the front.
it had a fucking clock in it.
A huge fucking wall sized clock built in on the side of their leopard print handbag.
What the fuck? Why? Why would you make that?
I think its going to be a long time, even around here, before I see any alleged fashion that is quite that fucking stupid.