When you're wearing these with fishnet hose, a little black dress and fuck-me-red lipstick, you don't have to look too hard for trouble, as it turns out.
I woke up at 1:30 p.m. (!) Saturday, with the taste of Red Bull in my mouth and a large blood blister on the bottom of my foot. Oh, and a numb spot on my tongue. I think I sprained it.
When I arrived at work for my bartending shift at 5 p.m., I was still dizzy. The hangover really kicked in around 8 p.m.
I wore the hooker boots to an early Halloween party. But the party fizzled out around 12:30. Do those look like boots that are ready to go home at 12:30?
In the end, the hooker boots had to be carried home in the pre-dawn hours. They promised big but didn't deliver, kind of like, well, a cheap hooker. Boot. They were still on my feet at 3 a.m. for last call in Broad Ripple, but my feet revolted soon after, as nearly as I can remember. The fishnets did not make it home at all. I'm afraid they may be in a pickup truck.
Someone asked me last night who is my bad influence, since I am known for being a bad influence on others. My answer was, I don't need one, clearly I do a fine job all by myself.
1 comment:
Yeah, those boots scared me so much that I had to flee the party.
Tongue sprain -- don't wanna know!
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