Listen up people: here is the big news. Me and Old Navy are BOYS. Or…boyz? Boyxi0zrzx? I can’t keep track anymore. Anyway, once again, Old Navy has saved me from a fate worse than death: not owning any pants that fit over my Beyonce-style derriere. (Note: this fate is worse than death for anyone who may meet me in their daily travels. For me it’d be fine; I’d go naked most of the time but for the restraining order and all.)
My pants situation has been worsening, ’cause I’m hard on clothes; my inability to eat without dribbling colored liquids onto my lap, coupled with general clumsiness and the fact that my junk and booty both apply TREMENDOUS pressure on anything attempting to contain them, means that pants just don’t last very long. I finally had to throw away one of my few remaining pairs of good khakis on Monday because I sat down to eat my morning omelette and split a hole right through the crotch, through which my various Bits attempted to fairly LEAP. I think I ended up putting on pajama pants to go to work.
The big issue is that I am just fat (38-inch waist) and tall (34-inch inseam) enough that nobody bothers to stock clothes for me. Target has fat kid waists up to 42 or so, but doesn’t carry any 34″ inseams once you get past about a 34″ waist, because apparently people over 6 feet tall are NEVER anything but completely skinny. The same thing happens at pretty much every store at the Christiana Mall, including Macy’s, Aeropostale, The Gap, all that good stuff. A notable exception is Penney’s, which does have a boss Big-‘N’-Tall section, if you don’t mind wearing Dickies, which I do.
Old Navy, however, has 34-inch inseams all the way up to 40 and 42-inch waists, and is therefore my solution for all fat tall kid pants. Yesterday, HW and I finally found time to go (I bribed her by also taking her to Red Robin for gourmet burgers; mine had guacamole in it and was SO GOOD (and yet I wonder why I have a 38 inch waist)), and I picked up two pairs of pants that make my ass look absolutely delicious. For reals: one of the sales girls got that look in her eye, you know the one where they’re all “I want to bite you on the butt,” but she managed to restrain herself, probably because she saw that my wife and son were there.
And no young boy should have to witness his father’s booty getting chomped on by someone other than his wife.
I can’t believe you’re dissing on DICKIES. I mean, you at a club, chillin at tha bar, and some fine young honey comes up and asks “What cha baggin?”
The suave response, and most likely sexist and best way to get a skinny knee in the groin is, “You.” (on the same level as “Dockers” and God forbid you say only with OLD in it…)
But I submit, as a warped and married (two things unofficially related, btw) man, that the :geek: and fetching response would be, “Dickies.”
Man oh man, that’s just honey sticky!