I'm back at work today, and its now worse than ever. It's happening all around me, and its hard to miss. I see it everywhere I go. I even see it on me. It's kind of easy to understand though. I mean, what with this place being what it is and the people being who they are. It's easy to see how it would come to this eventually, this descent into the bottomless pit of bad taste.
It's true. I'm here today garbed in clothes purchased by a three year old, a Hawaiian shirt from the ninth level of hell. That's what being Dad is all about; the humiliation. Now I know how my father felt years ago. I'm sure I did much worse to him. I wonder how much money is spent every year on the millions of yards of unsightly fabric. I wonder if the textile industry secretly target markets to three year olds. There are probably subliminal messages in those Disney flicks tauting the exceptional coolness factor of Technicolor polyester. In fact, the color scheme of this shirt is awfully Disney-esque. I wonder if the Disney store sells this stuff too. I bet they could make a fortune on it. At least in June.
But I digress.