Crocodile Shoes Blues

At one point last year I started being obsessed by the idea of possessing crocodile skin mocassins. I didn't even care that they had to be real; any imitation, if cheaper, would have done the trick. I also wanted snakeskin boots - might have been the late influence of WILD AT HEART, or not. I hopped from one shoe store to the other, my disappointment growing bigger every minute. I spotted some very powerful turquoise snakeskin mocassins at B2, but they were priced at 499$ plus taxes - on sale. Aldo had some rather OK ones, made in leather stamped in crocodile pattern, and on top of it all they were white - but they were priced at 100$, and I'd never pay such an amount for cheap-looking shoes. What in the world was I to do ?



I did nothing. I just dropped the idea as a whole.

Which pains me, because this is something I do often. But you have to make some choices when your income is as limited as mine, you know ? No fancy italian shoes, and no silk Armani crazy-colored ties either, because I don't even have the fancy suit to match them with in the first place.

But today, seeing that mocassins season has been extended - I still weir my beige leather ones almost daily, since there's no snow anywhere - I regret being such a poor-ass wimp.

But that's the way life is, buddy. That's the way love goes. It's the cry of the north american, middle-class white man. Complaining with its filthy mouth full.

*

Karen Simpson is moving to Australia on Thursday. What the ?! Didn't see that one coming, did ya ?

I'll miss her always-outrageous presence when I go out. But I'll send her some news. And who the fuck knows, I might even fly there myself sooner or later. Maybe when I'm done with Madagascar, Ushuaia, Easter Island and Gabon.