*clothe me, feed me
before i forget, i wanted to solicit suggestions for places across the bottom of this country where i could find food or thrift treasure. i'm driving across rte 10 in less than a month, and while i have austin covered, surely there are other places of interest in towns like mobile, AL, or new orleans, LA, or even in atlanta, which i'm stopping thru on my way north.
also, i want bbq and weird regional foods like the basque food i had in nevada and the steak place my dad and i went to in omaha that seemed frozen in amber from 1962. and yes, i will stop at the varsity in atlanta. fingers crossed their delicious hot dogs aren't deep fried and won't jizz on my car (see: wall drug. just what i wrote about, NEVER IN PERSON).
[photo: me wantee!]
i was just looking at that site as it was linked via jezebel or gawker or somesuch, and let me say this; if you are in your 30s and put bad religion, blink 182, sisters of mercy, goldfinger, anal cunt etc. on your list of musical favorites, there is a reason you're single. and it's not because girls are like, "ew, anal cunt!", it's because you're a grown ass man who listens to pop punk and/or novelty hardcore. not that you should try to lure ladies in with john mayer records and then pull the municipal waste bait'n'switch, but still, if you can drive yourself to warped tour, you're too old to go.
*no fatties please
as most friends of the 'tee know, i'm not such a big fan of public nudity (name a publicly uncovered part of a stranger that's normally covered-- toes, nips, midriff, etc-- and i'll tell you just exactly how it makes my skin crawl). as such, i prefer the one-piece swim suit. to me, bikinis are like jimmy choos or $6000 handbags; they're supposed to the status quo of what women want, but i was sick that day of womanhood school, and now i just don't get the appeal. i am an advocate of keeping the gut personal and private. hell, most men should be wearing one-pieces. and fuck a lot of man flip-flops. but we don't need to cover the issue of toe beards again.
long story short, life is hard for the one-piece shopper. first, you have the brands that seem marketed to those ladies among us who are so fat that they have to wipe their ass with a special tp wand (you thought i was gonna go with washing their backs with a rag on a stick, i know, but too easy).
nobody under 200 lbs wants to buy something called a "miracle suit," but i swear, this brand dominates the one-piece market. as if it wasn't hard enough to buy bathing suits, you now how to go into it knowing that it takes a fucking MIRACLE for you to fit into one and show your face in public. the other nightmare that keeps popping up is "storm in a D cup." i get the pun, but i feel like the only women who would buy this brand are current and/or former hosts of the view. and the lady who killed that poor 15 year old girl on myspace. and maybe tyra when she's fat.
but the worst thing i've seen this year is the following make of suit-- it's usually sold as the sole, sad, token one-piece in a pile of bikinis by designers who hate the fuck out of some fatties, or probably women in general.
most people call it muffin top, but that's at once cutesy and weirdly sexual, as it's on top of one's "muffin," and i hate when people use cutesy terms for penis or vagina (vajayjay? not okaykay, and about 17 months away from being funny). moi, i prefer the term stated up in the title-- "hiptits." because they're like boobs on your hips that hang over your pants, and while they're worse for the fat (especially in this era of mid-hip jeans), nobody is immune. except the supersickly thin. like model-era tyra.
so this bathing suit is basically a one-piece with hiptit windows. and really, if you don't care about showing off that part of your body, wouldn't you just buy a fucking bikini in the first place? belly button shame? it looks like your fat broke through the spandex levee of the suit and is now oozing to freedom, sending bikini-clad, barely legal teens to run for their lives so they don't catch fat.
[photo: even this model has hiptits! somewhere, a gay designer is laughing and filling his winter line with more trapeze dresses.]
[tangent! people sometimes get mad at me for throwing the term fat around so freely, but fuck it-- some people are tall, some people are olive-toned, some people are (different levels of) fat. fat and ugly aren't the same thing, and shouldn't be seen that way-- ugly is a straight up insult, fat is a factual state of being. people who call themselves ugly are fishing for support and compliments, while some people who call themselves fat are just telling it like it is and don't give a shit what you think.
if someone has a higher BMI than they should and wears a size 14, they're allowed to call themselves chubby because *that's what they are,* and when you scorn them for saying that about themselves, you're basically saying they should be ashamed of their bodies. which is why most women won't admit to their chubbs outloud, because they're locked in imagejail thanks to hardy seconds of denial fed to them by thinner people who are trying to help. a better reponse to someone talking about their D cup hiptits is, "whatever, yr lookin good, who gives a shit."
(and ps, i don't care what you weigh, keep your fucking clothes on and wear closed-toe shoes, just long story short, let's just destigmatize the world fat. hiptits and tp wands for everyone.)]
whatever, i hate this bathing suit.
sorry this was the bloggiest thing i've ever written. you'll hear nothing from me 'til i get back from sf.