So, I realized the other day, when we were ordering shoes for the spawnage, that I haven't really scored some new kicks in awhile. See, I don't buy myself a lot of shit for some reason. Oh, I longfor shit, don't get me wrong. I've got tons of crap just rotting away in virtual shopping carts all over the goddamn innernecks -- I just have a hard time hitting the "proceed" button. Actually, that kinda perfectly sums up my life to a certain extent -- I have trouble hitting the "proceed" button. But that's another post.
So, I'm ordering some wacky new orange and turquoise Converse hi-tops for Miss O when I notice a "special edition" Con that caused my nipples to go pert and then snap right the fuck off. I give you the Chuck Taylor Ramones Special Edition:
Of course, you can't experience their awesomeness from such a puny photo, but remember, my photoshop is borked, so what the shit. They're faded black denim, all ripped up and shit, with "Ramones" stitched across the top of the tongue. On one side, there's the classic Chuck circular emblem, and on t'other, there's a Ramones patch that says "Hey Ho, Let's Go." AND, the part that I didn't even realize until I got these fuckers today, the inside bottom of the left shoe says "Hey Ho" and the inside of the right one says "Let's Go!" OOH! I just peed a little simply thinking about them.
Now, will I look like a 42 year old ass-hat walking around with these on my feet? Most likely. Do I give a shitfuck? No sir. It's the Ramones, godfuckit! I actually almost didn't get them, but the Old Lady talked me into it. That, my friends, is why I married that woman. That, and she smelled purty. And now, with my tribute to the late Joey, Johnny and Dee Dee strapped to my feet, I actually don't have a problem going down to the basement:
5 comments:
I saw the Ramones in a club that size in around 1992. They were incredible. I think they played 900 songs and the concert was over in 15 minutes. It was great.
Yeah, I saw them in '83 at the Metro in Chicago and it still ranks as the best show I've ever seen. And I still have the giant-ass bass pick that Dee Dee gave to me after I slugged the guy who was spitting on him. Ah, memories.
When I read this post this morning I was torn between telling you one more time about how I saw the Ramones on my 21st birthday and that Joey and I share a birthday and that I have a poster of him on the back of my office door...or heading to the Converse Web site.
I choose wrong...The new CEO (Mrs. Doubtfire) caught me noodling around on the Web site.
I’m waffling about pushing the “put in my cart” button. I was just looking at my black hi-tops the other day trying to remember the last time I wore them. I wear my low tops all of the time.
And I have to be obnoxious every time someone comments on them—I casually point out that I bought them when they were still made in the U.S. The USA is all worn off of the heal, but I know it was there, damn it.
Guess I’d better gabba gabba hey back to work….
...and when I say "heal" I mean "heel"...
It's OK, Nora. Converse--whether hi or low top---are very healing indeed.
The inclusion of a Ramones logo on said shoes may JUST CURE CANCER.
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