Nonetheless, all us dearly beloved have gathered here today to talk about fashion. Chic. Attire.

Working in a very fashion-progressive environment that almost forces one to express himself via clothing, turns every day into a struggling battle. Knock on wood, I’ve been blessed with having pretty much every material need taken care of throughout my life. But my wardrobe still resembles that of an 8 year-old kid in Angola. I have 3-4 tshirts, 2 pairs of pants and a handful of underwear. Shoes etc. were always somewhat of a privilege, probably because of the sizzling Israeli summers that required barefoot-ness. In any case, I had to get a real makeover before starting this thingy here in CO. This made The Woman I Love exceptionally ecstatic, but before the shopping spree began, I was dreading like an anal virgin, minutes before the lube comes out of the drawer.

So we went…and spent…and then spent some more….all in the name of making a good impression. Soon enough I was armed with a plethora of nakedness-hiding gear. The Woman I Love chose famous brands and contemporary designs, navigating between the need to hide my beer belly and the desire to emphasize my unibrow and nose-hair. It felt odd to wear all these clothes that have buttons and neckbands. Still feels odd. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to it. The saddest thing about all these fashion shenanigans is that I ended up still looking like a shlump. Okay, stop for a minute – I make this sound way worse than it is. It’s still Advertising, and it’s still casual. No one wears a suit or anything, unless they’re trying to be ironic. We’re talking basic polos, some sweaters and reasonably tight jeans. Still, I can wait to hopefully finish these three months and go back to wearing my 3-4tshirts.

I have much more to add about general American dress code, and general fashion tips from my inner Tim Gun, but I’ll spare them for now. Maybe in part II of this.

Frankelstache out.

P.S. happy Holocaust day!

But now, I present to you, my friends, the newest most awesomest video involving an asian dude doing Karaoke.

So in America, when a person says: “Damn, I’d kill for a Burrito right now.” the people around him conclude that that person is really craving a Burrito.

My personal and completely normal conclusion was that given that murder is the highest rated offense (punishment wise), I can proudly announce: “Damn, I’d sodomize a 12 year-old for a Burrito right now.”

That didn’t go so well.

To a company that doesn’t yet exist

This will stay with them forever

Or at least till I say cease.

It’s tough and boring

Inspiration isn’t here today

I’m trying every direction

But all my lines are gray.

I tried ‘Connection’

‘Magic’

Anything synonymous with ‘Tech’

I tried Latin words

And Greek

I attempted stepping away

I tried writing quick.

Now I’m on the blog

Seeking for ambition

A definition

Or Ignition

Something to justify my commission

A tad of ammunition

This is a very bad condition

My career is in remission

Why isn’t “Procrastinator”

A fully paid position?

Fuck these texts. Let me sleep.