Style

By WR Jones

I saw a young black man at a grocery store today with his pants barely hanging on below the hips and 50% of his underwear showing.  He made a small tug on his trousers to hike them up a bit.  It did help keep him from tripping over his pant legs I suppose but that was about all.  The fact that he was black doesn’t really enter into my observation except as a paragraph filler.  This makes it seem I work harder at this writing business.

I looked at him wondering how he chose this particular dress style.  He must have seen someone else with his ass hanging out and said to himself, “Wow, that looks cool.  I want that look.”  This is probably how most of us pick our dress style.  I went to a western hat store last week to have my Stetson “Open Road” hat shaped to fit my head better.  I bought the hat because I saw an old gentleman with the same hat and thought he looked elegant.  I told the woman in the store the reason I had purchased this particular hat and could not understand how I looked like such a buffoon with it on my head.   After all, I and the old gentleman were about the same age.  How could he look elegant and I look like a common shithead?  After reshaping the hat the woman said it looked better.  I asked her if I looked elegant now.  Damn I hate blunt women.  As a business woman you would think she could finesse a little lie.

Another issue:

This painting started out as a still life of a slice of apple pie.   I can’t seem to gain control of my compositions; they run amok.   At one point I had a dump truck and a miniature giraffe in the foreground when my wife suggested flowers.  I followed her suggestion as gospel (a little play on words and illustration) as I was hungry and wanted some dinner.  Are there any drugs that will:

1.  make me feel very good

2.  make it so I don’t have to pee quite so often

3.  clamp down on this ADD that jerks me from one subject to another before I get my paints laid out.

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