If the title of this post provides anything, it is caution. You are now entering Pun City.
In the latest installment of Who Wore it Best, I indirectly tackle the seven most hated words, indubitably uttered to you by your best friend when stricken with the plague of raw heartbreak: there are more fish in the sea.
Now for a sentence primarily composed of prepositions, how nerved can one get? Very nerved, says I. And so in retortion (I made this word up), I offer this: fuck the fish in that proverbial sea and instead become one of them.
Don’t literally consummate with the fish though, they come with STDs, I’m told. And speaking of X coming with Y, the blouse above comes with a story. It belonged to my mother. She wore it proud through the early 90s with a matching pale blue satin midi-skirt. My father never left her, which is pretty noble of the man. But that aside, I do believe this period conveniently coincided with the same time I was taking a liking toward shiney, scaley things myself. Not as expensive as Moschino blouses that make noise when one moves, but certainly life changing. And so I give you:
Before Nemo was found, you see, there was this generous little slugger, trailing under the sea sharing his shiney scales with fellow sushi subjects.
And that is something I can get behind, because sharing is caring. (Help Japan.)
On a more general note though, fish are pretty cool so I’ve always wanted to emulate one. And while I can’t hold my breath under water for more than a mere 30 seconds, I sure as shit can swim on mainland.
To further this assertion, which, by the way, was just backed with photographic proof, I can run on it, too:
I don’t know what to tell you about the dead orchid to the far left behind me, but given the information I’ve just provided, let’s not stray too far from the initial question this post begs and that is…