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Saturday, May 31, 2014

Cargo Capris & Cage the Elephant

I can't believe I bought these cargo crops when I was fourteen. Golly how time flies.

Dayum, dat arm. Actually at this point I was around my peak of fitness. I proudly say that I could do 50 push ups. Feel free to applaud. But right now, with school out, I'm getting flabby... 
I was going to give this shirt two sleeves but got lazy after one. I took a ribbed knife to it too, got a bit carried away I fear. The nurse at my school (whose office I frequent for granola bars) gets on my mother fucking nerves, especially with this shirt. She's always trying to help me with my clothes. I am a grown damn woman. I can dress myself. She ain't my mama, and she's become a person I really dislike (among other reasons) because she can't leave my clothes alone. God forbid I wear a V neck in her presence. I mean, I have no cleavage to show, only sternum. In this shirt, she actually stopped me last year and started sewing one of the holes at my chest, above my breast. I let her do it, because curb stomping people is not socially acceptable behavior, but after she walked away I tore an even bigger hole in the spot. I know she means well, but it's annoying when it's all the time. She needs to know where to draw the line. If it was up to her, I'd wear turtlenecks and pilgrim skirts.

Oh lordy I lost my shit. This is never getting old.
I actually re-watched this recently and found there was so much word play for the poor adults forced to endure this movie on their children's behalf. Not that I dislike Hercules. It's very accurate, for a kids movie--little things aside, like the fact that Herc was a jerk.

I thought this was the most beautiful poem. Well, not THE most beautiful... I think Gardens of Proserpine takes the cake on that. 
THIS LOOKS SO TASTY.

Here's a music video of Cage the Elephant, a very new American rock band. I remember hearing them when I was fifteen, blaring in my friends car, screaming "Ain't No Rest for the Wicked." But my favorite song by them is another one, which is more rebellious, more vulgar, and just sounds cooler. 
Here's "In One Ear."
~Ash

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