A. Randall Sronce - Fan Of Man

I certainly adore him.

Look!

How lightly he may surge through life!

Rarely laden with "bags"!

Take the gun away from him and throw on a pair of "choice" shoes

and...

I really have only good things to say.

(Except - STOP WITH THE WHISTLING. Not the catcall variety, that's harmless. Stop whistling mindless tunes you infernally smug, glib, blameless, cowardly man. I hate "people" who whistle. And, quite frankly, I haven't heard a woman walk around so she could whistle....EVER? Stop it. It's a disgusting habit.)

I'm saying - "choice" shoes.

I think it's within every man's reach to acquire the perfect shoe.

This is all I expect.

This is, pretty much, all I ask.

And yet,

I sit here tonight so gape-mouthedly sad.

This:

a Dansko Clog...

waltzed by me this evening.

On the foot of NOT:
1. a Mom
2. a Lesbian
3. a Nurse

But.

A MAN.

There is not a potential reality to be conjured that would permissibly host the MAN foot that dare don the ---> Dansko Clog.

I am so upset! Just so worked up.

And, look!

My insomnia rears it's knackered head once again.

I wish, wish, wish to GOD and T. JUMHIMBOO that I had never seen it.