I'm feeling ineffectual and stupid today, so to cheer myself up I go shopping. (Again: not gay.)
I pick up a kick-ass pair of black calfskin Cesare Paciotti loafers and a Hawaiian shirt. No, I'm not wearing the shoes with the shirt.
I know what you're thinking, a Hawaiian shirt? JC and Wendy are having a post-honeymoon luau theme party tonight and want everybody to dress up. Gag. I don't own a Hawaiian shirt because I don't enjoy looking like a tool. No offense to the folks out there who own and enjoy wearing Hawaiian shirts, but unless you're going to a Jimmy Buffet concert or something, it just looks fucking goofy.
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