Dope Shorts, Barbour and The Elements of Style

A few Things I would like to share with you.. the first regarding my weed shorts from J. McLaughlin. I spotted these bablettes in Georgetown last year. My smarter self  knew better than to indulge in a pair of shamelessly preppy “half-pants” going for $100+. Where the hell could I wear these anyway?

Fast forward: Easter 2010. I received a package from my Mom with none other than the paraphernalia-clad critter shorts. I couldn’t believe it. My own mother purchasing these, for me? For Easter? Really? Unbelievable, you’re the best Mom.

Next: Coachella Music Festival. It takes place in the middle of the Californian desert and was a most perfect venue to wear my shorts day and night (which I did). The last day of the event I found myself drinking a morning coffee with my girlfriend, Lexi and my greatest of great friends, Christopher Ceccotti. In some stroke of un-luck my piping hot morning joe wound up all over my bare leg. Has this ever happened to you? If it hasn’t then please know that this fucking hurts! As calmly as I could I walked over to the “ice vendor” in an attempt to remedy my pains. The ice vendor: literally a guy sitting at a table with a big truck of ice next to him for purchase in 10 lb. bags. Cutting off 20 or so people in line I walked up to the table and calmly explained my scalding situation to Mr. Freeze. I requested a small handful of ice. He told me to get in line. I insisted. He looked at my leg, his eyes widened, he rose from his chair, arms in the air, hands pointed towards my crotch.

“Holy shit! This dude’s got weed leaves on his shorts! Thats fucking awesome!” he jubilantly exclaimed to his line of patrons.

He was in a better mood, this was my chance!

“They’re cool aren’t they?” I quipped, “My good man, I am in pain, I just spilt splintering hot coffee on my leg and this desert sun is making it peel.” I pleaded to him one last time.

“Oh wow you should probably get some medical attention for that.”

Thank God I had a plan B.

I am also sporting one of my favorites, my Barbour Beaufort jacket. I purchased it from yorkshirecountryman an eBay seller from England who seems to have a never ending supply at great prices. I paid for what I got though, a thirty year-old jacket with a few rips and tears and notably a smell that I can only describe as the inside of an old English shed. Needless to say I love it and it keeps me warm and dry.

And finally the Elements of Style, a book all about.. you guessed it: grammar.

Pictures by the SLR-equipped Magi, Miss Sofia Ishaq


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