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I am a forgiving person, a gentle soul I assure you, but I don’t think I can ever forgive Kirsti Baumgartner. A young man’s heart is a fragile thing, Kirsti, and when that young man buys you an iron-on from the snack bar and gives it to you during couples skate, you don’t just walk away without saying anything. And I damn sure won’t ever forgive Mr. Johnston the maintenance man, who had the boys’ bathroom locked that day when I crapped in my pants.
COUPLES SKATE! It is on. You tell me – is there anything hotter than a good-looking blonde, skating backwards while Foreigner’s “Double Vision” is pumping? Hell no there isn’t, and you’re wrong if you say there is. Just imagine the hotness coming off of a blonde skating backwards in this thing! Only problem: we’d need to find a second skate, as well as a sufficiently large blonde.
Red shoes are sexy. High heels are sexy. Red heels, therefore, are doubly sexy. And yet, giant red high heels stuck to the side of a building? More disquieting than sexy. Something about this gives a man more of a sense of proportion than he is comfortable with. It’s perspective, yes, but too much.
My aunt Gladys used to have some shoes just like this. And now that I think about it, her feet kinda looked like this when she wore them, too. Gladys was a special lady, but she had issues of her own.
Man, look at them footie things. They’re huge! I hope this nice young lady doesn’t trip on her way out of the store. You know, it begs the question of whether store owners need to consider things like this when planning their liability insurance coverage – does their policy cover things like patrons wearing dangerously large footwear? If she were to fall and injure herself in this store, who would be liable – her? the store? the manufacturer of the booties? All questions well worth asking; no easy answers here.
Question: What’s the only thing better than a girl in a giant shoe? Answer: Two girls in a giant shoe! WOO-HOO! Everybody throw your hands in the air and wave em like you just don’t care – we’re in a big yellow shoe and IT IS ON! Once the cavorting and frolicing is through, it’s off to the little sidewalk cafe in the background where, sadly and appropriately, everything tastes like feet.
I don’t know whether to pity these people, try to help them or wash my hands of them. Don’t they realize they’re walking (rather casually, I might add) near a boot of frightening proportions? All it would take is one little twitch of the mad god’s leg muscle to squash them like bugs. The lesson is clear, and it’s a timeless one: you don’t screw around with footwear this large. And doubly so since it’s a Red Wing boot, because that’s the mark of quality.
Yeah! F’in A! Big-ass clown feet! What could possibly be better? WHAT’S MY NAME?!?!
I’d like to see the person who can wear this shoe … really, come on, what’s the point of this? Nobody can wear a shoe that is this damn big!