Hello, my shiny friends! This past Tuesday was my birthday and I turned the ripe old age of 46. Remember when 46 seemed so old with ladies wearing twin sets, bouffanted hairstyles, tits sagging to the floor, lipstick smeared, gin bottle in one hand and a cigarette with a mile long ash in the other? 46 seemed ancient and death was upon you. You raised your children and you found yourself adrift while your husband played footsie with his secretary. The house in the 'burbs would be an homage to last decade's kitsch and you'd wander from room to room, a ghost in polyester, fingering objets d'art you picked up on your travels that once had meaning and now mean nothing.
Issue #41 I Like You
Issue #41 I Like You
Issue #41 I Like You
Hello, my shiny friends! This past Tuesday was my birthday and I turned the ripe old age of 46. Remember when 46 seemed so old with ladies wearing twin sets, bouffanted hairstyles, tits sagging to the floor, lipstick smeared, gin bottle in one hand and a cigarette with a mile long ash in the other? 46 seemed ancient and death was upon you. You raised your children and you found yourself adrift while your husband played footsie with his secretary. The house in the 'burbs would be an homage to last decade's kitsch and you'd wander from room to room, a ghost in polyester, fingering objets d'art you picked up on your travels that once had meaning and now mean nothing.