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so... my previous post did have a conclusive tone of contentment, yes. don't get me wrong, i'm currently blessed in a variety of ways, perhaps not yet in the realm of chest size (a girl can still hope, no?) but nevertheless, lucky indeed. on that note, i worry it is much too early to begin an ongoing rant of negative nancy-ism on the topic of the company by whom i am now currently employed. i am grateful. i receive a pay check. my co-workers are all young, good-natured, interesting and helpful. there is a sparkling glimmer of hope, albeit minute, that i may have the opportunity to move on to a better position within the company. in spite of my specific department, everything does have an air of excitement and creativity. there are many office dogs: a snorting, overweight pug, an inquisitive scottish terrier, a yippy pomeranian with a craze for chinese take-out, and the token trembling chihuahua. we listen to music, and though it is typically of the r&b and/or rap persuasion, the sporadic dashes of michael jackson keep me keeping on. sometimes we eat pizza or cupcakes and laugh a whole lot. other times the phone rings incessantly, the customers are repeatedly stoned and incoherent, and i scratch at my thighs and fight the urge to pull out my own hair, overwhelmed and vanquished.

being that the most popular brands we sell are supra, married to the mob, hellz bellz, crooks and castles, LRG and dope couture, it's not difficult to imagine the body of clientele we attract. so you don't recognize any of those brands? neither did i. perhaps if you were in the market for items such as these, you would be better familiarized...

my feminist soul weeps, weeps oceans. the brand that created this last little beauty is called TITS (evidently an acronym for "two in the shirt", but i'm still nauseous over it). so what if my inner lorena bobbit is consumed with the urge to castrate the pig that created this line of t-shirts, featuring only tits and bare asses and compromising positions. at least it's not just a clever name. i can handle it. sell sell sell. les-bi honest, i know i won't let my man wear a stitch of anything else because...pussies don't get pussy...or...err...wahhh. okay, so when he's not effortlessly visually degrading women, i let him wear "the bullet jewelz v-neck tee" as depicted in image one...you know, to class things up a bit. i wish this were all a joke, i really do.

i am, of course, harping on the negative here. this is essentially what i do. but there are certainly some diamonds-in-the-rough to be unearthed within the men's department. if you have the patience to sift through acid wash, jumpsuits, studded platform hooker shoes and neon printed spandex, there are actually some excellent women's finds as well, especially via the brands bb dakota, free people and cheap monday. i have already spent a notable portion of my earnings to purchase said finds and am pretty jazzed about it.

at my last job i had created and maintained a public google document to catalog all of the most comical customer names i came across (see: anita weiner, hester ham, schlomit tromer). i now vow to do the same with the cornucopia of noteworthy apparel i discover as time progresses, as the world of fashion becomes remarkably more despicable. scout's honor.