Oh, but I was wrong. Last night at the gym I saw something even better. My fellow gym-goer was wearing the following items: bright red boxing shoes with hot-pink, leopard-print, spandex pants and a snakeskin weightlifting belt over an oddly plain tan t-shirt. Oh, and a patterned headscarf. If he'd been wearing ridiculous sunglasses and a feather boa, I might have mistaken him for our former governor.
Sweet, buttery Christ. This guy was a hot fucking mess. And it was glorious. I mean, it's far better than the guy in my yoga class who wears Zubaz. This guy's crazy outfit made me smile. And it almost made me laugh in his face. Fortunately I was able to control myself. I don't need someone dressed like that as an enemy.