I Am Looking Good Today

I know it's rude to brag, but some days... well, some days you've just got no choice. And today, kids, just happens to be one of those days. I, C-dog, am looking fiiiiiine. Oooh, yeah! Got on my fresh threads, my hair's looking as sharp as it's thinning-self possibly can, my face is... well, my face is a little fucked up because I've got *yet another* cold sore in the corner of my mouth, but whatever, we're ignoring that because, as I said... fiiiiiiine. If you saw me right now, you'd say, and this is a 100% accurate quote, "Damn." Then you'd most likely faint with a case of the vapors.

This whole dressing up thing, mind you, isn't a usual occurrence. I tend to dress like a particularly down-on-his-luck vagrant who's only heard of soap in tall tales told by other hobos around the hobo fire where they eat their hobo chili and drink hobo coffee and, once the fire's been doused, make sweet, sweet, hobo love. I've never met a piece of clothing that had too many holes in it, or whose pits were too stained from years of use. I've worn shoes that were so wrecked, they'd morphed into sandals. Normally, I could give two shits about my appearance, preferring to coast along on my charm, wit, and my white-hot dance moves (The Worm, The Running Man, The Roger Rabbit, and The Electric Slide). The fact that I've gotten nowhere in life and am a constant embarrassment to my friends and family is of little consequence... I'm my own man! An unbelievably shabby man, but still.

Unfortunately, there are times when being my own man is directly at odds with what is socially acceptable. Sometimes, much to my chagrin, there are moments when life requires of me a little sartorial flash. This is where I'm lucky to have Girlfriend in my corner... she's got an eye for what looks good on me (large, high quality tents) and she can, when called upon to do so, dress me to the point where I look like a guy who's never once found a dead mouse in his clothes. Believe me, it's a magic trick worthy of Penn & Teller.

And that happens to be the case today; we're going out for dinner this evening (Restaurant Week continues) and because the place we're going to is fancy-pants in nature, I dove straight for the part of the closet where the things she's bought for me hang.

Now, sadly there was no time for me to snap a picture of me in my snazzy gear. But as luck would have it, I'm such a talented artist, I was able to throw together a quick sketch of the outfit for you to look at, longingly and lovingly. It's basically going to be like a sensual rubdown for your eyes, so get ready for that. Here's me, now, looking so fucking handsome the whole world be buggin':



Black pants, slick blue sweater, black shoes, and the sun shining just for me. What could possibly be better than that? Well, me in the nude, of course. But that's a post for another time.

ZFS!: After Dark...