The Pajama Bottoms Trend is Pure Shite

Bonus points for the porkfat

Listen up assholes: It isn’t outerwear. The last straw officially broke the camel’s back last night, 21:00 central time in Oak Park, Illinois. I was walking Scout for his evening constitutional when a couple, of the biblical “one man and one woman” variety that only religious wingnut corncobs care about anymore, went gallivanting up the block in contrast colors pajama pants. The male sporting blue with an absurdly fugly pattern whilst the female was similarly adorned in a red pair. Fuck you, fuck you so much. I’m not talking about lovestruck teenagers here either but rather grown ass people in their 30′s. I could see the malice in Scout’s eyes as he shit at them, but to his everlasting credit he refused to waste barking energy on such low lives. This trend, which was obviously born of extreme boredom and the most vapid of minds at the middle school level, should have died somewhere in the lunch room of Springfield High School. Boldly pissing in the face of common sense and reality it persists still, and apparently has become “acceptable” for adults. I’ve got news for you: It looks like fucking shit on your apathetic 13yo daughter and on you, her parents, it looks like fucking shit squared. No, cubed. Get your head out of your ass Mr. & Mrs. Dorkwad. You aren’t hip and you certainly aren’t cool. Once you leave middle school and you want to be a slack ass piece of shit with no self-respect you wear sweats, track pants, yoga pants, end of chat. Baggy flannel PJs with “sailor kitten” pattern are for little girls or grown men watching the FBI extract the hard drive from their computer in their mom’s basement. If you are screaming this loudly inside for attention then please, for the love of Crom, get a neck tat, have an extramarital affair, get a haircut that was edgy 10 years ago, find Jesus, buy a used Miata, adopt a pit bull, start smoking grass, trade in your minivan for a newer minivan, tell people at parties that you are a huge AC/DC fan but only the Bon Scott years, whatever floats your attention seeking boat really. I implore you, on behalf of society, don’t wear little kids sleepwear outside of your home like they’re a pair of goddamn khakis. Because when you do, this time Johnny we both lose. One of my good friends is a college professor and I can only imagine this is a goddamn epidemic at the collegiate level. On par with ebola.

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


× 5 = forty

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>