Things to wear shoes for
A stylish male, apparently, never commits the following style faux pas. I mean there are others. I think there were eighteen in total, but right near the top of the list were; flip-flops, cargo shorts and a t-shirt with any sort of printed slogan or graphic on it. A prefect trifecta of dowdiness.
*Joey casts a critical eye over his chosen haberdashery for the day*
Two out of three. But thats only because my flip-flops died (and have hopefully gone to Havaiana Heaven). Although I have recently decided that the universe is trying to tell me something and that maybe I should just eschew footwear entirely from now on. Unless of course confronted with burning hot asphalt, devil-thorns, broken glass and maybe carpets strewn with Lego.
These seem like environmental factors where sneakers are the better part of valor (although I often see my fellow South Africans disregard such trivial detritus with their overly dense dermis and apparent lack of nerve endings). In any event, I’m sure the author of said list would rate going bare shod even lower than the malevolent flip flop.
Boat shoes are apparently the correct answer to what to wear in 32C around the pool and beach. Probably not drinking cider out of the bottle (where you’ve pushed your lemon slice down into stem, to get the perfect cider to lemon ratio) while wearing a collared button shirt and a Panama plantation owners hat.
Speaking of all things sub tropical…
I harvested my first batch of (bigger) tomatoes earlier this morning. Barefoot I should probably add. Tomatoes being one of those crops that I seem to be able to do consistently well with (along with chillies and bell peppers). My spinach and salad greens on the other hand have already gone to seed and are looking quite ratty and sad now. I might just pull them all up and start over.
After rampaging around my veggie patch I went and wrapped Christmas presents for my nephews. A shopping experience for which I donned Sketchers. Mostly because theres this dodgy homeless guy who often sleeps in the doorway of the comic book store and whose inert form I may have to step over in order to gain access to said premises.
I almost NEVER venture into the Marvel and DC sections of this particular establishment… because… well I’m kinda a comic book hipster (or maybe just a snob). And therefore meandering past the safety bubble that is indie comics and new releases starts to burn me with its mainstream-ness.
Picking something for ten years olds from this habitat… seems… challenging though and so I co-opted one of the dorks to help make some sort of informed decision from the brand name section.
This is what we eventually settled on.
Part of me feels I’ve sold out to Big-comics. Ha ha. And that if I’d really put my mind to it I could have found something, middling (ie not too violent, or dark) in my normal purview, that wouldn’t have made my sister and brother-in-law freak out. The fact that I chose Deadpool as a middle ground comic probably tells you all you need to know about the sort of stuff I like.
Still… I can’t help but feel I took the easy route this Christmas. I blame the pandemic.