so my new living quarters provides me with much less space for fun things like clothes and shoes. in response I am trying very hard to part with things I have not worn in forever and a day. though, my plan is to give the things I plan on tossing one last go, just in case I reignite a love for them again. (because obviously that helps with my dilemma of no space).
what happened today makes me want to throw that whole idea into the goodwill dumpster.
I wore a pair of boots to work that I’ve had since early high school…yes I’m 25 now. these said boots have thick soles and are a bit clunky, but hey I’ll give it a shot.
I’m not at work 30 minutes when I stand up and half the sole on one of the boots comes off the shoe. so here I am, boot with sole flapping in the wind and slapping against the concrete floor of the basement of the library I work in.
there was no glue, there was no tape that would fix this. not at my disposal now. so I had no other choice but to rip the sole off the shoe. now, I can’t walk around with one sole on one boot and no sole on the other boot, can I? no way, I am off balance enough as it is.
so I ripped them both off.
and now I look like I’m wearing wrestling shoes.
at least I have pants on.
“Yo, I gotta have sex tonight! I mean peep this - They say here ninety-two percent of the honeys at UCLA are sexually active. Ninety-two of the women in Los Angeles at UCLA walking around going, “Class… or sex? What shall I do?” Ninety-two percent, yo! Hey, you know what that means?
It means I gots a ninety-two percent chance of embarrassing myself. I roll up on that shorty be like, “What’s up yo?” she be like, “You don’t know 20 different ways to make me call you Big Poppa” cuz I don’t yo.”—