I remember a time when I’d wear a jeans shirt, a jeans jacket and some jeans jeans and it was awesome. Granted it was the early nineties and shell-suits were also awesome, but I think an all jean cat-suit is pretty cool. I love jeans. Love ’em. That’s why I’m so upset today. All my jeans are disappearing. My wardrobe is turning into the Mary Celeste. You know it? The spookiest boat that ever did sail the seven seas with a crew that probably got murdered by pirates. “but there was no evidence of a struggle, so they couldn’t have been boarded!” scholars will try and tell you, but have they ever considered this; There was no struggle because the crew of the Mary Celeste was made up of a bunch of pussies. Boom. I think that’s fairly possible. It’s like when I get beaten up for no reason. To look at an assailant after one of my many and on-going random beatings I can almost guarantee that they would ‘show no signs of a struggle’. This is because I’m a pussy and I give in but this isn’t to say the crime didn’t happen. It did. And South Wales Police are FUCKING SHIT. But, then again, I do have the kind of face you just want to slap. Then kick. Then spit at.
Anyway! Back to my jeans. Well, I can’t go back to them. They’ve gone. Where the hell could a pair of jeans need to be that’s more important than on my legs? How did they leave? All my shoes are still here so they didn’t walk. My wallet wasn’t in them either so they couldn’t have gone anywhere using my Oyster. Which, by the way, I’m pretty sure is ripping me off too. How come you can buy a day’s travel pass for seven quid, but put a TENNER on my oyster card and that shit don’t last five trips. Fuckers. And I think TFL deliberately don’t train any of the staff on any aspect of the job so I can’t complain and they don’t have to give me any money back. Double fuckers.
It’s only my blue jeans that are cheesing it too. I still have an abundant supply of brown jeans, but I’ve been wearing brown jeans for about 4 months now and I want a change. And I’m starting to worry people think I only own one pair of jeans. Brown. And what’s everyones problem with the colour brown, anyway? It’s a totally bitchin’ colour, y’allz. Especially for clothes. I still have my favorite trousers, but I blew into a candle at a gig and got wax all over them. I wouldn’t be so bothered by it if it didn’t just look like someone jizzed all over them. It’s on the outside so what’s worst is it doesn’t even look like it could be my jizz, unless I lay the trousers down with the particular intention to jizz over them. It look’s like another man has just jizzed all over my crotch. Fuck. It’s hard enough to convince woman I’m not gay and sleeping with me WOULD be worth it. Imagine trying to do that covered in jizz. Jizz.
Where are my jeans?