Thursday, January 13, 2011

pockets

Today I would like to celebrate my love for pockets.
Pockets in pants.  Timeless and classic.  Where else would men and women put their hands?  Not mention the THINGS in their hands??

Dresses with pockets.  This can save hundreds of celebrities from a horrific red carpet pose.  If you don't know how to stand on a carpet, you probably shouldn't be famous.
Why would Beyonce do this?  She looks like a drunk toothbrush.  And, no, I'm not sure what that means but it's how I feel.  So it will be.
And I know Renee is just a big stain on a carpet in the first place, but a Wonder Woman pose isn't doing her mannish upper body any favors.
I don't even know.  She's trying to be cute?  But she could also be farting.  So powerfully it is starting to propel her off the ground.  It's not a good look.

So if you don't know what to do?  Just jam your hands in your pockets!
Does it look amazing? NO!  Does it look smart?  NOT SMART.  But does it look dumb?  A little bit.  But at least their hands are warm and they're doing something with a sense of purpose.  And maybe they're scratching their itchy thighs.  They're flabby rashy scratchedy thighs.  You don't know.  And that's why it's great!  There is a sense of ~*mystery*~ inside a pocket.

Hot Pockets.  They are delicious to eat.  But also that time in LOST when Hurley threw a Hot Pocket at Ben.

Pita pockets.  It's an envelope for food.  If there's one thing I love more than a letter in an envelope, it's food.  I used to order many a pita pocket grilled chicken salad every week in New York.  Then I moved away and the restaurant closed.  Coincidence??  I think not.  I think we can all safely realize that restaurant was only open in order to serve me and sustained itself on my obsessive yet deliciously healthy obsession with ordering 3 to 4 grilled chicken salads a week.

Secret pockets.  Men's jackets usually have that nice inside pocket.  Ladies don't get those pockets.  I would like a pocket that only I know exists.  I could put really important stuff in there.  Like an emergency cookie.  Or a key to my secret ski chalet.  So I could ski in skin-tight skiwear that shows off my defined bottom, distracting other skiers who will spill their secrets all over the mountainside.
Or I could pocket a Post-It with the secret code to my secret vault inside my secret ski chalet.  What's inside my secret vault?  Another secret!  Or maybe a secret emergency cookie.  But you'll never know.

Pocket.  The word has lost all meaning.
You know what hasn't?

This!

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