Fashion can make some people puke

Having Ellen Degeneres as the new judge of American Idol makes about as much sense as a gay dude judging a women's beauty pageant. Of course, America's already been down that path before and that turned out fuckin' great!

Speaking of gay...

Last night, I was over at Sam's (manly bar) watching football (manly sport) when I got a phone call from Micah (kinda manly except for when he runs around the house naked and giggles) who is in town for an extended weekend. Turns out he and his wife were right next door at POSH for a fashion show. Actually, the show was being held on the street next to POSH. Now, for the uninformed lot of you, POSH is a store that I can't afford to shop in and while I often decry the world of fashion at large, I semi-secretly wish that I could afford to shop there. If there's one thing I know about life, it's that broads like gents that wear their $347 pair of jeans as well as their unkempt beards. If there's two things I know about life, it's that women like to be called broads. If there's three things I know about life, it's that it's damn hard to get a properly poured pint of Guinness in this town except for, of all places, Cabana where I ultimately ended up last night for Colson's birthday party. Cabana is not very manly at all. Even less so than naked giggling racoon eyes Micah.

As I was standing there talking with my friend and former roommate about Obama's speech to the nation about Awesome Chili Cheese Fritos health care reform, the aforementioned fashion show began.

Remember who's writing this by the way. Perhaps the least fashion forward man you are ever likely to meet. I'm talking "sweatpants + roller skates = first date attire" type of guy. Let's hear it for unneccesary quotation marks!

A voice over came over a set of loud speakers. Something about the dawn of time. And the beginning of man. And how we came to be. And romanticism. It reminded me of "Stonehenge" from This is Spinal Tap. I was hoping that some little people were going to come out dressed in some sort of elfin outfits in which to frock. I immediately thought that this was going to be the best fuckin' fashion show of all time. Easily the best that I had ever been to. I mean, the new line of Russel Athletic Wear comes out soon (they're partnering with Rollerblade for a unique fall look is what I'm hearing) and I went to their show a few weeks ago and it was off the chain! Oh, how excited I was!

And then David Beckham showed up. On a fucking horse. With a sword. Part of that is a lie. But a dude that looks an awful lot like David Beckham did show up. On a fucking horse. With a sword. You know... David Beckham? Football Soccer player? Has a movie named after him starring the greatest actress in all the land? Married to that anorexic chick from Spice Girls? Yes! That dude! I'd post a picture of him on here but I think I've exceeded my quota for homoeroticism for at least the next 8 days or so.

I'm not too sure what fashion has to do with medieval outfits. Unless this was a fashion show for Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure 3: The Search through the Last Several Years for Alex Winters' Career I'm at a complete loss. Maybe chalk this one up to ignorance or me failing to see the big picture but I just didn't see the correlation. Even the techno beat remix of "Ave Maria" didn't quell my confusion.

I stayed for the whole thing because, well, why the hell not?! The size negative infinity lady models were nice to look at and wonder what they looked like naked. The part where the lady sitting in the VIP section in the front row projectile vomitted from drinking too much organic wine which we were informed has "215 less chemicals than regular wine" [Writer's note: I don't know if projectile vomitting lady is a good advertisement for the wine or not.] was pretty sweet. But really, at the end of the show, I just wanted to run out onto Belcourt Avenue and stomp the little buildings that were set up with cute little lights in 'em.

Maybe if I would have made some sort of Godzilla like noises. Breathin' fire. Wompin' shit with my bad ass tail. [Writer's note #2: Don't make any "In danger of being crushed by a dwarf" jokes or I will destroy you.] That sort of thing... Then maybe it would have been okay. But discretion is the better part of valor and I decided to let David Beckahm, Jr., ride off into the street lights sunset with his dame while I promptly went over to Cabana and enjoyed my pints. Besides, I don't know how many other middle aged women were there that would have been eager to projectile vomit on me. That would have been a quick end to my night and I had plans of making an ass out of myself and ain't no one was gonna stop me.

And no one did.