We are a strange group, us humans. If you don't believe me, walk around in public at a mall, visit your kids' school, or watch the news. We are not always bad -- sometimes even good -- but surely and definitely we are a weird species.
Take fashion as an example. For the record, I have two (yes, count 'em) shades of khakis and four different colors of plain shirts to wear to work, so I think I'm eminently qualified to comment on haute couture. I was driving to work the other day, when I saw an amply rear-endowed mother of one bent over in the passenger compartment of her SUV. She was clearly struggling with either the carseat or her kid, who was in turn struggling with having to sit in the car seat. I've been there - not so much fun. I could tell from her body language that she was fried and on the verge of losing it.
But that's not what I noticed first, truth be told. I noticed her gigunda ass. I'm not commentating on the size of her posterior; my own seat cushion ain't so small either. No, in fact I wasn't even "window shopping"... You know, checking out the merchandise without intending to purchase. My wife and I agreed years ago that it wasn't worth fighting over if one of us checking out someone else's goods. Look, don't touch.
No, what attracted my attention was the dazzling bright, hot pink sweats with "UCK!" spelled out in pt. 1024 font across this poor soul's graciously full buttocks. My first thought was, "Uck!" as in gross, but why would someone wear that on their ass? I then realized the passenger door was obscuring the first letter or...gulp!... letters. My next thoughts? "Fuck!" Followed by "Suck!", "Truck!", and finally "Canuck!". But why would a grown woman wear "Fuck" on her ass? Or suck, truck, or Canuck for that matter. There are no good answers to those questions, my friends.
As I pulled up at the light near her house, the full spelling came into view. It read "Luck!" I don't know who should be more embarrassed. Me, for thinking uckfucksucktruckCanuck. Or her, for wearing a neon sign-esque pair of pants with letters so big you could see 'em from the space station, on a butt that could be rented as billboard space. But either way, "Luck!" was not helping her wrestle the car seat and/or rebel two year old into place.
Like I said earlier, we are an odd bunch. And my fashion tip of the day? Wear khakis.