Footwear, Etc

Yesterday I purchased shoes, among many other things, because when you plan to take over the world, you must be well dressed and well accessorized. I went to the shoe store for the sole intent (excuse the pun) of finding a pair of red shoes, but instead left with a bag full of black shoes. Imagine that. So I'm still on the hunt for some hot red shoes and perhaps even a hot red purse. Yesterday's theme, aside from black, was apparently peep toe and patent.

Pair Number One. These are significant because they are from the Jessica Simpson Collection. Nuff Said.


I found this little purse at Target where I went immediately after the shoe store. I will wear the shoes and carry the purse with this super hot little black and white outfit complete with black and white striped silk scarf in my hair that I recently purchased to wear to my birthday party. I ended up scrapping that idea because as cute as the outfit is, the icing on the cake is the scarf in the hair and well, if you'll remember, I had already planned to wear my fabulous black lady church hat to said birthday party. So this magnificent outfit, which is really even more fabulous thanks to the new shoes and purse, will make its debut as (insert plans to take over the world).



Pair Number Three. I have no specific plans for these, but I don't know, they just spoke to me. I think I might just wear them this afternoon to a god damned motherfucking Pampered Chef party that I somehow got conned into attending today.



And finally, I hesitate to even show you these because I know at least a small amount of ridicule will follow, but I'm Hot Lips and I can take it. I have failed to mention here because it does bring me a certain amount of shame, but I have indeed become fond of my Crocs. They are absolutely the ugliest pair of shoes I've ever owned, and that's saying a lot. The higher the heel and the pointier the toe, the better. So Crocs really go against everything I believe in. But God damn, they just feel so...right. My feet enjoy them and beg me to put them on whenever I'm just running out to do a quick errand. So I was quite delighted yesterday to find a pair of Croc maryjanes. The same Croc comfort, but less bulky and dare I say it, a dash more feminine.


So there you have it, yesterday's footwear scores.

I know this entry has gone on long enough that I've already lost half of my readership, which means only Pissy is still reading. But since I haven't updated lately, I'm going to add one more quick item.

Do you guys remember my old neighbors Biff and Feather? I could go on and on about them for days, they are horrible alcoholics, pretentious, racist, ugly, Republican, miserable, negative, elitist, self-involved etc, etc, etc, etc, etc. But with all of their shortcomings, they were nothing if not entertaining. And this is why sometimes, very late at night, when I would find myself all alone working until the wee hours of the night, I would wonder over to their house for a little levity. I was guaranteed to find them, no matter the hour, the day, the season, to be awake and drunk and ready to party. And as I'm sure you can imagine, this would always generate a good, nay great, story.

Let me give you just a bit more background on these two. I'm not sure how a more perfectly matched pair found one another. They were completely consumed with money, wealth and status. So much so, that to everyone but themselves, they have become a running joke, especially Biff (at least in this department, Feather is the running joke in just about every other department). If I had a dollar for every time one of them would just blurt out in a conversation at random or with a stranger I'm Rich or I'm a Blueblood, I, too, would be rich. Of course my definition of rich and blueblood is apparently not quite as liberal as their definition. Oh God, I could go on and on with examples, but I've got to reel myself in.

Let me paint a little mental picture of Biff. 5'10, 250 lbs (all belly, all the time) slicked back graying dirty blond hair, red puffy face, always, always, always, wearing an overly starched pastel Oxford shirt and boat shoes and a pinky ring. Are you smelling what I'm stepping in? He had no problem telling you how many models he banged or how great he was at collegiate sports. He loved to talk about money and how much of it he had. He's the type that has to tell you how much his new car cost, how much his new Rolex cost, you get the idea. No matter what the conversation might be, whether you are discussing the war in Iraq, or crying over your dead dog, somehow Biff was able to turn it into about how great he was, how much sex he and Feather have, all the people he knows, and mostly, how much money he has. (Please keep in mind I watched his car get repo'd as I stood at my backdoor giggling, but that's another story for another time.)

So in sum, Biff was always talking, and always talking about himself and he had this ridiculous low, slow, nasally, pretentious draw to his speech. Which, of course, I soon began to imitate. Nothing tickled me more than to tell a Feather and Biff story in my Biff voice. I did this so often, that I could do the Biff voice better than Biff. For a while during the spring/summer of '05 I got so obsessed with the Biff voice that I was using it a good 50% of the time. But alas, I finally sold my house and they, too, sold theirs and we went our own separate ways and my Biff voice soon became just a fading memory.

But then last week who should I run into at the local Applebee's Neighborhood Bar & Grill? You guessed it, Feather and Biff. I sat and chatted with them for about 15 minutes. I got to hear about their trip to Mexico and how great their business is doing. All the classics. I politely excused myself and got the hell out of there.

The next day I called Dee to tell her that I had run into them, and just like an old friend, my Biff voice came back to me, it fit like my favorite old t-shirt. And for a moment while I was doing my Biff voice for Dee, I was sad it had ever left.

So now I need to see if I can figure out how to get into audioblogger and let you, too, enjoy the wonders of the Biff voice.