Sunglasses Can Buy Hearts

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Yeeeeppp. Yepp. Yep. Yep. Just what I thought. Stack and unstack those rhythmic cups kiddos because this screenshot is proof; you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone. Rather pathetically too, I might add. I escape the grid for 12hrs and return to this? My goodness, people. Pull yourselves together. Let’s leave the excessive texting to me the pros. I haven’t looked a them yet. I’m afraid Tina is hungover and wants me to bring her things. Kidding. It’s a Wednesday.

This wasn’t going to be on the blog. I thought you guys might feel bad about your minimal texts and stuff. I originally texted the screenshot to my friend Mitchy expecting praise and pride and congratulations on my popularity contest with myself. But he didn’t deliver the reaction I wanted… so now I’m here. It seems the text count wasn’t what interested him. “What is your background?” he typed, rudely insensible to a pivotal life moment I shared with him. And then the conversation went like this….
IMG_0103 Because I’m a good friend, I caught that barf sloshed comment with a brown bag and because I’m me, I’ll grin in the flattery for at least two weeks. Although, I’m wondering if he meant “that’s a great deal!” on the basis…it’s easier to pay $752 to get to your heart instead of putting up with your shit. Vhatever. I’ll take the sunglassses.

Here’s why.

Like I told Mitchy, I’d trade my heart for these babies because I feel like they already are my heart. No one can have it until they get me those sunglasses. You probably think I’m kidding but I’m not. I love them. LOVE THEM YOU GUYS! (Like the link? I’m trying to practice my coding so I don’t forget it)

This photograph must’ve sat front row in a marketing class. A cool, non-obvious, celeb (Suki Waterhouse…not Kate Upton, although, I respect Kate Upton too)…having the time of her life. It says, wear these sunglasses and your smile induced double chin can look this good too. Did you notice the clouds in the lens’ reflection? Didn’t think so. But your subconscious probably did. I speak for what your subconscious already knows when I say, “These sunglasses will help you smile even when there are clouds in your eyes.” Understand? Okay, I never actually took a marketing class so I don’t know who sat in the front row, but I have been to a market, where these sunglasses would fit right in on a Saturday morning.

They are gold. Literally, figuratively, and probably fiscally. With reflective tints. Which, thinking about it, scrunches ones nose in confusion at the price tag. But that’s what I like about them and I think they are nothing short of wonderful. They play on the always intriguing aura of versatile. Reportedly, you can sit at Wimbledon within reach of the Royals and wear the glasses as they are; $752. But it’s obvious you can also wear them in a carpeted diner looking out the window from your ripped up booth while a waitress rolls a non-electric vacuum…exploiting the tackiness in this accessory’s appeal.

I only imagine those places because those aren’t my places. But in my current places these sunglasses work too. Wear a collar under a sweater, lookin’ all Jenna Lyons genius. Then. Instead of throwing on the glasses that illustrate Squints from The Sandlot…just wear these sunglasses and show your culdesac…Look. I’m also a fun time. Wearing a nutty outfit that makes you look like you own a pet shop…or should own a pet shop? Put on the sunglasses, they’ll blend right in.

I feel like I’m not getting through to you nor do I think I’ll be able to so I’ll do what I never do. Stop while I’m behind.

Haha! Yeah right. I’m not stopping. I have two more things to say. Maybe three. If you thought I was going to spend my entire blogging experience talking about the river, then, well…hmm. Why would I want to talk about the river when I’ll be spending all day on it? Of course, I might talk about boats that are large and rhyme with marge.

And another thing. Your texts looked much better in the numerical sense than the written word. Step up your content.

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One thought on “Sunglasses Can Buy Hearts

  1. Pingback: Regular Old Canoe | A Lame James Franco

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