Drink Drank Drunk. Or, Starts Odd and Only Gets Odder.

Silky Open-Back Collar Blouse- Vintage, Vagabond Leather Jogging Shorts- One Teaspoon, Zoe Booties- Sam Edelman, Plaid Bralet- Free People, Collar Necklace- Fallon, Triangle Ring- Pamela Love, Crystal Ring- Ylang23

Typical Saturday evening around here in Pelliconia. Joey is concentrating really hard on affixing a shitload of shiny stickers to our printer. He is obviously enjoying himself like, a whole lot. Oh! Looks like some Kidrobot stickers are now joining the blindingly glittery jumble (digression: tomorrow, mom will receive a giant neon pink poster board covered in photos of her beloved kitty, glitter glue, randomly shaped glitter stickers, and basically every other glitter and/or sticker product the craft store sells...Joey and I usually give psycho-crafts for gifts since we are five years old). So. I wonder how many times I just wrote some iteration of the word "glitter". A lot, probably. But I'm not gonna change it cause glitter is a lovely word with only beautiful connotations. Glitter!

Anywho, on Friday mom and I had some unbelievably unbelievable vintage luck. St. Vincent's (local church-run thrift store) gave up sooo many treasures. The red silky blouse pictured above was an immediate "hell yes". Since it buttons up the back, I can show off my dizzying array of pretty bralets (ha- I most def just referred to my collection of bralets as a "dizzying array", huh? I imagine this situation where I just sorta wander unsuspectingly into my closet and am suddenly struck down by "pretty-bra-overload-dizzymadness" or whatever). Oh, and I'm deeply in lust with the collar on this thing. It could only be improved with some DIY Western-esque silver tips.

My One Teaspoon leather jogging shorts finally arrived and they are everything I hoped/expected. Although being a wee bit large in the ass area, they tend to flap all over the place which exposes some cheek. I'm a lot less modest than I probably should be. Who cares. I'm just ecstatic to finally own them babies. 

Sometime next week I'll wear/blog this oversized circa-80's blazer we immediately grabbed at St. Vincent's due to it's perfect  lion/tiger/zebra/completely bonkers "zoo animal" themed print. I really, definitely want to meet the woman who wore it originally...maybe she'll be my Personal Style Icon #3! I'm actually sort of serious- you'd have to be awesomely wacky to buy that blazer. I guess it's possible that she's just the "I refuse to wash my hair since I've found the grease/dirt buildup effectively protects my brain waves against the CIA, I have thirty talking cats, and practicing Celtic Tree Worship is my touchstone" sort of wacky...which is still kind of awesome. And hey, the CIA is creepy as hell. My fake blazer owner/fake style icon got that one right. In fact, I have a couple of bones to pick with the CIA. 

Dear CIA,

Here is an open letter to you scary people. Ok, yes, thank you for getting Bin Laden. And I really don't care that you killed him, guys. Despite the teensy legality issues starting to crop up. But you need to stop with all the torture, ok? I mean, logically speaking, info garnered from torture isn't gonna be trustworthy like, at all. Maybe sometimes, but words like "sometimes" and "maybe" scare us regular 'ol non-spook folks. This is the USA. We are Walt Whitman, Cindy Sheehan, Pop-Tarts, Huckleberry Finn, fireworks, Pat Tillman, David Sedaris, Bobby Kennedy, cheetos, "The New Colossus". We can't just go around torturing people- we're supposed to be the goddamn Golden Door. Ok, agents, I know the argument: all those deeply American things I just listed exist due to your protection. Sure, CIA. Point taken. But I'm not saying we should abolish you- we need you guys! I think we would totally take off our foil hats, stop calling you spooks, and dislike you a lot less if you'd try this: Do your job until your job means doing something illegal. And don't split hairs regarding the word "illegal". Easy. And seriously, when "enhanced interrogation techniques" (whoever came up with that phrase is quite the genius with euphemisms) lead to multiple unexplained deaths...that's just plain old KGB type shit. THAT has to stop immediately. Nothing could be more at odds with how these United States were supposed to work.

I don't really have anything against Leon Panetta. Your current leader is (?) a sorta reasonable man compared to...every single other director. He actually seems a bit too not terrifying; I'll be pissed if he's just a hologram or something. So assuming Mr. Panetta is not a hologram, the timing is perfect for you to chill out, stop breaking the law, and go visit the Statue of Liberty. All of you. Then and only then will the zoo-creature blazer lady (who might exist, one never knows...) start washing her hair again. 

P.S.- HEY! Can anyone tell that I am really really wasted? Ok, well I am. So. Apologies for any portions that are uhhmm completely unreadable? Oh man are there gonna be some edits tomorrow. Laterz!