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Mile Markers

Saturday, May 18, 2019

Pierwalker Log: May 18, 2019

Writing start: 10:51 A.M.
Finish: 3:10 P.M.
Total new words (est.): 0
Edited (est.): 12300

1. Failure: Read-through of chapter twenty-six

2. Book Three Melody: First primary edit of chapter fifteen

3. Angel: Book Three: Off

4. Random Chance Book Two: First primary edit of chapter two

5. Port Story: Off

6. Hidden Bookmarks: Read-through of chapter one

7. Rumpel: Read-through of chapter four

8. Zelena (Secondary Edit One): Off till 5/22

Special Projects: None today

Extra notes: So here are some contemporary evils to consider: global climate change, Republicans and their hateful desire for autocracy, the despoiling of the oceans, species extinction, suburbanism, nihilism, cynicism, narcissism, social media, the Orange Ass Boil, Bernie Sanders and Joe Biden. And skinny jeans.

I realize that they've been around for a while. When they first showed up, I prayed that they would be a very temporary fashion craze. They weren't. Examples are below.

I will confine my rant here to women's jeans, but make no mistake: guys wearing them is even worse.  It's a true and heinous abomination. Since I'm a heterosexual male, I will focus entirely on the female side of the rancid equation.

There is simply nothing to recommend them, even if you yourself are skinny. They're ugly. Just looking at them makes my thighs and calves gasp for air. Despite being form-fitting, they do absolutely nothing to compliment a woman's body. Nothing. I fully understand that most guys are crude sacks of shit (and, as it turns out, most women too), and so anything that form-fits to a woman's body is A-okay. But when I look at a woman wearing them, no matter how in-shape she may be, no matter how beautiful she may be, I am instantly turned off.

They pancake asses and constrict hips. On the unfortunate occasion a woman wearing a pair bends over, exposing her lower back, you are confronted with thong underwear (another big turn-off) or their ass-crack. Like they're plumbers or something. Skinny jeans leave nothing to the imagination. But for me, imagination is where all the excitement is. That's where the mystery is. But again, I am unlike the vast majority of my male counterparts, who, if it were in their authority, would have women simply walking around naked. It's all very brutish and unimaginative and un-mysterious, and explains also why the vast, vast, vast majority of porn sucks so badly (pun very intended).

But that's the age we're living in, isn't it? Brutish. Unimaginative. Mystery safely burned to the ground, factory farmed, slave-labored to China, and medicated whitely* and suburbanly away. It's all so fucking suburban. Pancaked. Strangled. Squished. Conformed. Confined. Ass cracks showing at the local Fred Meyer, and ass cracks taking over our government. Beta-max porn complete with wah-wah thumpa-thumpa music.

I was raised in jeans, and have worn them almost exclusively my entire adult life. I'm working ever so slowly at branching out, but most days I'm in my Wranglers, very loose fit (mostly because I'm loosing weight). Jeans are as basic as breathing for me.

When I was in my twenties--1982 to 1992--I gave daily thanks for the jeans women were wearing. On the right girl, they made my eyes cross. Example below.

Not an eye-crossing example, and in fact a poor one, because the manufacturer clearly wants to combine hateful skinny jeans with those classic eye-crossers from yore. But the idea is basically there. Notice the high waist? To me, that's yum. It sets off and compliments the waist and hips. See the looser fit in the thighs and calves? Here again, this is a bad example, but use your imagination, if you still have one. The ass is too tight (keep your mind out of the gutter) in this pic, but again, the idea is there. Does anyone remember the jeans I'm talking about?

Here's another example.

This one's a little better. You get a nice hint at her shape, and it makes you go hmmmmm. High waist. Nice shape around the butt. Hopefully she's not wearing thongs. But the fact that, if she bends over, it's entirely unlikely I'll find out in any case is a good thing. (Whatever happened to string bikinis? Those are a hundred times cuter than thongs, no matter how you're shaped.)

Another example.

Pretty cute. And hey, all you conservanazis: these jeans came into vogue when Reagan was in office! Freedom, and all that! Yes? No? Is anybody home? Bueller ... Bueller...?

I know I'm getting up there in years, and so for most of you my opinion doesn't just count for nothing, it counts for less than nothing. Well, right back atcha, fuckhead. Maybe if these jeans came back into fashion (including, oh yeah! Levis 501 button-downs of the same basic style), the collective consciousness of this society could breathe again. Maybe all that blood, squished into asses and thighs and calves, has lowered IQs sufficiently that fascism got a grasp once more. Kind of like how when immune systems are suppressed, allowing diseases to take hold. Maybe brutishness doesn't have to win; maybe flagrant voyeurism doesn't have to win; maybe we can take a walk or go to the mall or the beach and not get our vision assaulted by these skinny abominations.

Probably not. And leave it to people to come up with something even worse, as opposed to better. Worse happens far more often. But I'm an optimist. The jeans above happened, right? They supplanted bell bottoms and skin-tight polyester disco shit. There is hope.

One of my all-time favorite films is Singles. It came out in 1992. Kick-ass stories; kick-ass music. But also Bridget Fonda. And Kyra Sedgwick. Sedgwick wore those favored jeans in many scenes, including this one:

What a hottie!

But I can tell you right now that had she worn skinny jeans on this date, I would have been turned completely off and probably wouldn't have watched the film as many times as I have. I realize, again, that I'm swimming up-current here. I couldn't care less. Maybe there are some of you out there--guys or girls--who feel like I do and have waited for someone to say something.

Well, I have. In a world collapsing from outright evil, from brownshirts and MAGAtshirts and yes, skinny jeans, true abominations that they are, I thought this little bucketful of protest might spare the ship from going completely under, if even by a few seconds.

Have a good weekend.

*Ever notice how white prescription ads are? I'm not talking about the people, but their surroundings. Everything is heavily bleached and lightly blurred, and everybody walks around in slow motion while the voice-over informs you of the thirty-nine things you could die from by taking their noxious shit. Why the bleaching? Why the blurring?

Note: all images are copyrighted, I'm sure.
I couldn't care less.
They are owned by giant corporations who
pay less in taxes than my poverty-level household does.
Fuck them.
One more thing:
Yoga pants apply to this rant just as equally.