The Fox In The Garage Part 9: The Ocelot Dress

August 17, 2010

The best part about going over to Gary’s is the internet. He has wireless internet so I can use his laptop and cuddle him on the couch while he watches ESPN. I’m not much a technology nut but I like this wireless thing because it lets us each do what we want to but still be together at the same time. I don’t like watching ESPN, and he doesn’t like to do what I do online: look at dumb clothes that dumb rich people wear. I never had internet at my house so I didn’t know about all dumb clothes people wear. I’m talking about stuff they wear in New York City and California and probably Boston too. I’ve seen dumb clothes on TV before, but they don’t show you the prices on TV. You have to go online for that.

On the Bloomingdale’s website there’s a Diane von Furstenberg dress called the Beulah that sells for $795. I don’t even want to know what Beulah means but if I had to guess I’d say it means spoiled cunt in Italian because only a spoiled cunt would wear that dress. The website says its airy chiffon cascades to the floor in dramatic drapes, while sparkly gold sequin pailettes adorn the bodice. Adorn the bodice: that’s funny to me for some reason.

-Hey Gary, this website says that this fancy dress adorns the bodice. A-dorn. The. Bod-ice. Is that funny to you too, or just me?

-Everything is funny to you when you’re drunk.

-Hey Gary, you want to buy me the Dolce and Gabbana Ocelot-Print Chiffon Party Dress? It’s only $1,295.

-Sure. And I’ll eat canned tuna for a year.

Anyone who wears that ocelot dress is asking for it. The model who’s modeling the ocelot dress on the website is asking for it too. She doesn’t even look like a real person. Her arms are shiny and her elbows are sharp, like they’ve been whittled by a grandpa on a porch somewhere. Her face doesn’t look like a real human face but rather like the mold of porcelain doll’s face that was modeled off of the prettiest girl in the world. Since when was it hot to look like a mannequin? That’s why young girls are so sad all the time. Because they look like real people but the girls they see on the internet don’t so they think that something must be wrong with them when in fact it’s the girls on the internet who have all the problems. These Bloomingdale’s models have been sexually abused, I’m sure.

When I was a teenager I would get sad because I thought I didn’t look right. There were twenty-four super-pretty girls in my class. Twenty-three after Heather Bee moved to Lansing. Sheryl Crosby was one of them. I always thought she was their leader because she was always talking and the other girls were always listening to her. In science class Sheryl would talk about which boys bought her lunch and whose dick she’d touched. I always thought that was tacky. Sheryl looked like Britney Spears and for Halloween freshman year she had the gall to dress up like a Catholic school girl so she looked Britney Spears in the hit me baby one more time music video. I was a bug that year.

I always thought I looked weird and I felt bad about it until I read an article about how unhappy Britney Spears is most of the time. That made me feel better. I like to think that all the good-looking people on the planet are the saddest and all the regular-looking people are the happiest. And it doesn’t matter anyway because I have Gary now. Who does Sheryl Crosby have? Nobody. I heard her boyfriend left her because he was sick of how dudes would always hit on her at bars and how dudes would come into the library and pretend to browse the movies near the front desk but really they were just looking at Sheryl. Sheryl is beautiful but show me the most beautiful girl in the world and I’ll show you a guy who’s tired of fucking her. He should have listened to that song Grandma always put on in the car, the one that goes: If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife. I wish more dudes would take that advice to heart and give us regulars a chance.

The Tourino Mouflon boots by Dolce and Gabbana drive me bonkers. They are, and I quote, military inspired booties. But they’re just tall boots with high heels. Just ‘cause they’re boots how does that make them military inspired? The people writing these websites will write anything they think sounds good no matter how wrong it is. And who wants to wear boots with high heels anyway? Is it so you’ll look taller when you’re out camping? Or so you’ll look rugged when you’re drinking purple cocktails on top of the Empire State Building with your gal pals? So you can be all like, I hope Fabian comes this rooftop party so he can see my military inspired booties. Because I want him to think that I’m rugged and elegant. He doesn’t want a girl who’s too fancy or one who’s a dyke. That’s why I wear these booties. So he thinks I’m riiight in the middle. Fabian bought me the ocelot dress I wanted so badly so I let him put his thumb in my butthole.

The Tourino Mouflon boots cost $995. If I had $2290 I’d buy the Tourino Mouflon boots and the ocelot dress and I’d go as a coastal cunt for Halloween. That is, if I still dressed up for Halloween. Then I’d return them because earlier I said I’d murder anyone who wore that stuff and I’m a woman of my word. If I kept wearing them I’d have to murder myself and Terrence would have to live at Gary’s  all by himself and he would not like that at all.

-Hey Gary, if I died tomorrow, would you take care of Terrence for me?

-I guess so.

-I like you, Gary Welles.

-I like you too, Linda Lauper.

[a kiss.]

[100th post!]

NEXT: The Hangbot Sheriff

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