'Rence reads an email from Simon & Schuster
They don't know it's me?
They know.
Google it.
Schlossman.
Gotta work for it.
Take their lunch money.
Can't know everything.
Who knew?
Brewster the Wooster
is not a Rooster.
Nobody...in Ft Wayne.
Could taste that GQ gig.
Escaped the PR Rigs.
Pitti the fool.
Turning Gilt to Thor.
In a Viking longboat.
In the park.
Behind 1166.
Sucking a Marlboro light.
Ryder rents trucks.
So where the fuck.
Are my double monks.
I want a dude who's ultra hygienic.
Not someone
who cleans his nails
with a dipstick.
I saw a couple gays
at Grammercy for dinner.
Only one ate.
Is that how it works?
Jeesie Steezie.
Puddin and pie.
Kiss da boys.
And start writin'
for Fashion.
But Fashion's jail.
Like Murph the Surf
told the prison guard.
Boss,
it ain't real but it's close.
9 comments:
Everything "fashionable" summed up in one great poem. Nicely done.
--Matthew
That sound I just heard was style and dignity breaking window glass as they left the building...
ha ha he's got the cum-in-my-hair Tom Brady haircut. Fuck yeah.
not nearly hip enough to get this.
fashion fight?
So, are you for him? Or against him.
I can't tell if you are being mean or not to LAS, this post was so convoluted
If you can't tell if The Trad is being mean to LAS, I think that means The Trad got it pitch perfect hip...I mean perfecto...
What? No Barbour x Alden x Vans x McNairy x Apolis x Hillside collab?
By the way, he's wearing Come to Me in his hair, Does it look like Come to you?
Too bad he stopped writing it. That was one of my favorites. That dude nailed it.
what's the focus on this oaf all about?
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