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April is freakin weird.

Issue Date: Wednesday, Apr. 27, 2005

Over the past few days I have laughed, I have shed tears and I have danced in the kitchen to Keith Urban’s Making Memories of Us. I have played endlessly with matchbox cars, I have watched Thomas the Tank Engine and I have gone on monster hunts through my neighborhood. I have been anxious; I have been lost on the west side of Ft. Worth (after taking 380 West as opposed to 380 South) and I have been amazed at the kindness of family and friends.

April has been one hell of a month. We have lost a loved one. My husband got a job. Stacey just called and Greg got a job, congrats man. Hot Barney got a promotion, congrats to you as well goober. Hot Barney’s step mother was in one hell of an accident. We have had a flood (inside). We have had hail and tornadoes (outside). The weather on Saturday was 49 degrees and later this week it will be 90. Things are crazy.

I also realized a few other important things. Before all the craziness started, when Mister finally got the call that said, “Dawg! You’re going to Hollywood!” Er… wrong show. I don’t even watch American Idol. No really. Stop looking at me that way. (back on track) When Mister got the call that said, “We want you to be the Big Poppa of our Blah Dee Bloo Division for Company X.” and Mister accepted we decided to invest in his appearance and get him a suit or two and some slacks. He already has some nice shirts and a nice suit. But a man needs a few suits, some nice wool slacks, some awesome shoes and some other things to round out his wardrobe. Right? Well, we had some of those things already. Mister dresses extremely well. Hott-cha-cha-cha. Add to that fact that he’s 6’5” good lookin to boot and I’m one lucky lady.

The 6’5” thing is sometimes a problem when shopping. Big and Tall Men’s stores sometimes want to dress every tall man like Uncle Bruce. Slap a polyester/rayon mix collared shirt with a waist band on it so Old Unc’a Bruce doesn’t have to tuck that bad boy in and some of those snazzy Sansabelt slacks… Mmmmm boy. Gah. Just GAAAAHHH.

Who, under the age of 96 wants to dress that way? Seriously? Do they really sell that much of those things to facilitate the need to have multiple colors? [shudder] Which is why we spend time and money and tailoring on Mister's clothing. It is nice, it is purchased from nice places, it is tailored to fit him and it does, nicely. No waistbands on shirts found here… ick. Gah.

Which brings me to the next thing. Let’s say, for instance that your name is … Oh, I don’t know… Mark Ghani… and you own the Big & Tall Fashions at 901-B West 15th Street, Plano, TX 75075 and your phone number is (972) 424-8788. And let’s just say… for instance, again… that these two nice people, these two nice, tall people casually walk into your store looking to drop some serious cash on some new clothes for the aforesaid Mister. And you, Mark Ghani, appraise these two people, these two nicely dressed people and say to yourself… “This April in this United States of the Americas has sucked large camel schlong. I will finally make my quota and can send the money to my family back in the [wherever]… I will make money, tonight aaaaaiiiiyeeeeee!”

Now, would you… Mark Ghani… [who owns the Big & Tall Fashions at 901-B West 15th Street, Plano, TX 75075 whose phone number is (972) 424-8788] say to this large, 6’5” man, who dwarfs you by a foot and a half… after he has tried on several suit coats to find the correct fit of one suit coat that he likes and you do not have something that fits him, you have too big, and you have too small… but you ask my adoring, loving husband, “How hard would it be for you to lose a size?”

That floors me.

This man bought a business outright. (I called and checked the other stores in the area and they verified that Mr. Ghani is the owner.) A business of selling clothing to men of size. Size that could be tall or could be wide, or both, either way… one thing is for certain. He is an insensitive prick. And as soon as my husband went into the dressing room to try something on, I stepped up to this man, and stood up to my full height and with barely contained rage gave him a verbal dressing down… minus any curse words, ya’ll would have been so proud!

Now, my husband is not as sensitive about that kind of thing. He, being a big guy, has had to deal with the advantages and the disadvantages since he was in high school, annnnd he dealt with drill instructors in the marines so…. I think he’s fairly desensitized to the whole, “Look! A Giant!” thing. Me? It hurt my feelings so bad ya’ll. This is the man I love, and if anyone even looks at him cross-eyed, I will come UN-Fucking-GLUED.

Mister and I got in the car and he said, “I kinda liked that you stuck up for me, but I’m sorry you are so upset.” Awww

Suffice it to say, we went somewhere else (Cough::Men’sWarehouse::Cough) and they had much nicer clothes and a better selection and a tailor on hand and we almost made out with the guy who was helping us he was so nice!

Mark Ghani is nothing but a low-down, double-dealing, backstabbing, larcenous perverted worm! Hanging's too good for him. Burning's too good for him! He should be torn into little bitsy pieces and buried alive! (tm Hanover Fiste)

So… I’m off to get out my stitches… but before I go…
To answer gatsby’s question:
How can I better use my sexuality to advance my career?
Um. Well. I never used my sexuality to advance my career… just my incredible good looks and double and sometimes triple entendres. Oh, wait. Maybe that is using my sexuality. Okay.

Editors Note (added 4/28/05)

Ya’ll? When did I become so moody and freakin serious? I used to be fun! Frolicking even. Check it. For example… this entry about my many travels (includes pictures) last September. Or this one where I am a 12 year old boy. What happened to those days? What happened to the rampant James Van Der Beek humping for the love of Pete???

Note to self: Lighten the hell up.


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

The Graphic Below Courtesy of Papernapkin.

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