How terrific would it be if everyone in DC was wearing one of these tomorrow? Pretty terrific, in my opinion, but then I'm always wanting life to be performance art. (And by the way, there's a new post dated Sunday, the 18th, called Basic skills will be demanded... I kept trying to move it and couldn't. It's kind of presidential too. Check it out.)
I love the way things are stacking up for the inauguration. As I've mentioned, I grew up in DC, but the only inauguration I ever attended was LBJ's. This was because DC has a perfectly vile climate that seemed to reach a nadir of vileness with every new president. But one year I was working in DC, and had become friends with a very nice girl about my age, who lived in Maryland, introduced me to Pimm's Cup, and about whom the FBI would later question me closely.
I don't know how she talked me into going, but I went. Of course, this was an earlier, more inhibited age, so she and I wore the full-girl drag, girdles and all, in sub-freezing temperatures, while slush poured into our high heels, and we were spattered with dirty snow and road dirt as the president et. al. zoomed past. I saw LBJ sitting in his bullet-proof car, and his face looked like a boiled ham.
Later, my friend and I retired to the Blue Mirror Bar and tossed a bunch of Pimm's Cup cocktails.
The End.
Yeah. They're mostly like that.
This one isn't.
I love the way things are stacking up for the inauguration. As I've mentioned, I grew up in DC, but the only inauguration I ever attended was LBJ's. This was because DC has a perfectly vile climate that seemed to reach a nadir of vileness with every new president. But one year I was working in DC, and had become friends with a very nice girl about my age, who lived in Maryland, introduced me to Pimm's Cup, and about whom the FBI would later question me closely.
I don't know how she talked me into going, but I went. Of course, this was an earlier, more inhibited age, so she and I wore the full-girl drag, girdles and all, in sub-freezing temperatures, while slush poured into our high heels, and we were spattered with dirty snow and road dirt as the president et. al. zoomed past. I saw LBJ sitting in his bullet-proof car, and his face looked like a boiled ham.
Later, my friend and I retired to the Blue Mirror Bar and tossed a bunch of Pimm's Cup cocktails.
The End.
Yeah. They're mostly like that.
This one isn't.
No comments:
Post a Comment