I passed a woman in a wheelchair on the street today who said: “I got rid of my running shirts in 1996.” I also watched last night’s SNL to discover that January Jones is the worst host of all time. This proves that comedic acting is harder than people give it credit for, and comedic situations are easier to find than people assume.
That anorexic twig bitch seemed like she got high and was hit with a brick before she went on stage. In her best performance, she doesn’t have to act as she is simply playing a girl who gets treated ok because of her looks without having to use any sense of intelligence or humor. I prefer the woman who was earnestly discussing her disposal of a made up article of clothing that is now unnecessary to her cripple lifestyle.
I shop in thrift stores for 99-100% of my clothing, searching for the best fitting pair of pants that a failed 70s businessman had to relinquish when he moved to a smaller apartment when his wife left him. Pretty little blonde girl shops at Neiman Marcus and demands her clothes to not have wrinkles and cost a lot. Bulimic and not funny therefore has no opportunity to be a part of the constantly sitting woman’s world, whereas if I ever need a running shirt (I won’t, but the world is open to many possibilities), I may find myself looking through a rack containing the 13 year old shirts of a cripple who was not bound to do any running anytime soon.