Vice Monkeys by 

SHAG

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2003-11-23

Ben Sherman or Somewhere Brittany is missing her dancers

I was very, very, bad this weekend.

I went to the mall with the intention of getting a start on the Christmas shopping. And spent a lot of money on myself.

I bought a pair of Ben Sherman Jeans that make my ass their bitch. There was a sale on Puma�s so I bought some California Style in brown and cream. Because they matched the Ben Sherman shirt that I bought. And some t-shirts. And a bottle of Aqua Di Gio. And a new skincare line, seeing that I�ve given up on Anthony and refuse to work to find philosophy. Or shop in the womens department. This time I spoke to the man behind the counter who gave me all sorts of unwanted feedback on the size of my pores, skin type, and cleansing regime. And directed me to Zirh. Probably because there was some sort of promotion going on or something. But I don�t really care. The stuff is reasonably priced and seems nice.

Then I went to dinner with friends where I was the most popular person anywhere. I think it was the coordinated Ben Sherman ensemble. My sparkling wit and effusive personality might have had something to do with it.

So, yes, far be it from me to brag.

The lighting of the Embarcadero buildings was lovely. Only at the end though. It was very cold. Wisconsin cold even. And we had to sit through local news and radio people tell insipid jokes and suffer through a speech by one of our mayoral candidates in the run off election. Then some children skated. Finally we are counting down to the event, the crowd muttering Flip the switch already, when there is disaster! Oh no, the switch has been accidentally raised to the roof. And not in the hip hop sense. Suddenly a renegade troupe of Brittany Spear�s dancers rush the stage and go into a homage of Michael Jackson�s Bad video. They dance about the "lighting technicians" for a bit and then decided, as all gay street gangs eventually do, to help. And thus began 20 minutes of me freezing my ass off while a troupe of performers mimed the worthlessness of modern dance. Eventually, after what seemed like endless attempts, the switch is thrown, the lights come on in a mesmerizing display of beauty and the air erupts into fireworks. So the Cirque de Soleil moments are forgotten, and forgiven. I love fireworks. The booms and the sparkles and the thrill of the little tiny tracers in the sky. The rain of ash and the way some of the images remain burned into eyes for seconds afterwards. We retreated after the fireworks to North Beach. And I managed to catch my train.

I think I�ll go worry over my bank balance now. I�m sure it�s in the 4 figures. If I count the cents.

Look at us, we're beautiful (0)

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Email Entry, Just for Laughs - 2006-01-25
Stupid Names - 2006-01-03
Something quick - 2005-11-18
Updates from Utah - 2005-09-01
Cha-Cha-Changes - 2005-07-07

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