something is wrong

i want to be a writer. well, i am a writer. see, i'm writing.

but right now i work at a taco stand in queens.

it's a messy job.

so messy, in fact, that about 89% of my clothes are ruined.

about five times a week, someone in the back yells, "*#$@! these are my last &*$^%&* PANTS!" as bleach creeps into the fabric.

last week, i was wandering by urban outfitters, thinking, when i am a Real Famous Writer, i will shop here all the time and look so nice and never have to worry about bleach on my clothes.

when i saw it.

a huge display in the window of urban outfitters of artfully BLEACHED clothes.

something is wrong.