In Love With Your Mom

Johnny ducks in for a spot of good news:

It's relaxing not needing to play music or I'll die, but it would be fun. I just found a surf guy on craigslist who's trying to put something together this summer. That would be a gas and a half. I've already got the Nehru suit. It would be a nice change to be in a band where it isn't a race to see who can fuck the singer first, because there is no singer.

I like friends with zero impulse control because by association I look positively restrained. Before the head swells, one must use it to take a humbling look at the facts - or in this case, an email from Sharkey, asking the musical question, "What the hell am I wearing?"

Seriously.

I required oxygen and the assistance of a very handsome rescue worker who could bench press me without breaking a sweat.

Tata: No wonder your dad didn't take you camping. That's like waving a GO! flag at pedophiles. Can I use it on PIC as an example of photos our mothers MUST EXPLAIN?
Sharkey: Mom MADE the outfit!
Tata: I can't breathe! Your mom made you a polyester leisure suit? Out of an Italian tablecloth? Even felons get natural fibers.
Sharkey: Wasn't I a lucky child? No wonder I can't remember my childhood, I'm blocking out the fashion.
Tata: We must prevent your mother from entering fabric stores at any cost. Dear God, what if she buys gabardine?
Sharkey: Yes, you may use the picture. Knock yourself out, cupcake.

Ordinarily, calling me "Cupcake" would be cause for a head injury but I'm still cackling after half an hour. No photo posts to Poor Impulse Control without the delicate resizing efforts of Siobhan.

Siobhan: Crap! That made me laugh really hard, too! My gut hurts now!
Tata: It's fantastic, isn't it? His mom MADE that suit!
Siobhan: I think I just passed out for a few seconds. My mom made me polyester clothes, too.

Attention Miss Sasha: in the mid-seventies, when I attended junior high school, college-bound femmes were supposed to stick strictly to academic subjects so when I registered for a semester of cooking and sewing classes it caused a riot in the Guidance Department. Oh, yes. Apparently, women pursuing advanced degrees were condemned to a life of staring mournfully at a cold and empty kitchen and wondering what measuring cups and frying pans were for. Since I listened to nobody, which is a great way to pursue learning experiences, I tried desperately to use a sewing machine well. We made polyester skirts and were supposed to wear them to school. Mine was beyond hopeless and looked accidentally like something Andy Warhol made on purpose, leaving me with the impression that I was somehow too smart to operate machinery.

This is also why when you called me up with your cooking school homework I made up the answers, because I wanted you to pursue your own learning experiences without my sage counsel. So, sweetheart, braising is not actually what causes bacon to turn blue.

I lied. I hope this is not interfering with your career in the food service industry.