I’m a sexual predetor when it comes to mannequins
UFO SIGHTING. No, wait. Sources identify the object as something called "the sun".
I’ve been an Oregonian for 8 months now. As much as I thought blustery, snowy Philadelphia had prepared me for dreary winters, this is getting to be a bit much. The last time Oregon saw real sunshine (a clear day as determined by no cloud cover), according to scientists, was more than 25 days ago. No wonder the suicide rate in just-as-bloody-miserable Seattle is so high. At least our paper has a sense of humor.
I have so many snarky/cranky/weird/philosophical thoughts, I wish I had a program to immediately transcribe them during the day to this diary. When I’m behind concessions (or standing door) for 5 straight hours with one 15 minute break and seeing maybe 40 people a set…lot of time to kill. Today I spent a full ten minute period repeating "I’m going insane insane insane insane. This place is inane. What’s my name? insane insane. going down in fame for being insane. I’m going insane. And rhyming." People don’t really go to the movies from 11am to 5pm on weekdays. Got to love weekday opening shifts. Just give me a lobotomy and be done with it.
I’m lazy tired, so this will be a photo-centric entry.
That Girl Is Taking Pictures of Our Displays Again.
It’s no secret that I have a type. I really like black men. Where I might find a fat, bald, mustached white man unattractive, give him brown skin and *poof* SEXY BEAST. And hey, he doesn’t even have to be REAL as I discovered as I walked through the Nordstrom’s men’s department.
I eye’d the mannequins. Did my best Joey impression.
How you doin?
Work that book bag. Coffee sometime?
Why, yes, I’d love to. I’m flattered. Can I rub my hand over your head?
I texted my sister after snapping these photos with my phone.
"Is it weird that I find myself very sexually attracted to these mannequins?"
"You’re weirding out the salespeople that are no doubt nearby wondering what the hell you’re doing."
While I’m on the subject of men’s departments…
I love them. I could stand in them all day. I especially like men’s ties. The skinny ones. Nice men’s clothing looks damn good. And crisp. And slick.
Chaos is reserved for the women’s section, where there are twenty different cuts of pants (boot, slim, petite, narrow, long, curvy, plus, tapered, regular, flared) and blouses of every minor color shade on the rainbow.
But types are just first-glance attraction quantifiers. After all, I’ve spent the last 4 months with this self described "brawny" lad:
something about vests- so nice and I’m not gonna lie, I cracked up when you said black men were your type. you’re so funny and unexpected and crisp. and slick. (that made me laugh too, but mostly because I agreed with it. I love well dressed boys)
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DUDE. I’m so with you on the winters. I grew up with snow. I moved here thinking, “Well, it won’t be snowy, so I’ll be totally fine!” Four months later and I’m freaking counting the sunny days I’ve experienced on one hand, and I just want to die. I WANT TO DIE SO HARD.
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Also: Men’s departments make me happy in my pants, too. Srsly. I mean, I may not ask out a mannequin, but they can be pretty hot. As long as they have heads. Srsly, I am a sucker for well-dressed men. Even plastic ones.
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RYN: I love Ze Frank. I have never heard this. Just looked up the story behind that song. Awwww. Man. Thatdude is made of so much awesome. I WISH HE WASN’T MARRIED.
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