miércoles, 26 de agosto de 2009

Feeling Gray

My dad does this hilarious thing sometimes. You know how most adults like to come home from work and change immediately into their loungewear? Yeah, he does that. However, once in a blue moon, something truly magical happens with that chosen loungewear:

He goes for the gray-on-gray.

There's probably nothing more on earth that I equally loathe and love as much as the gray-on-gray combo. I hate it for the obvious reason: it's absolutely hideous, especially with clashing grays. It is the lazy/comfortable equivalent to the jean-on-jean... there's not much more I can say besides that it truly hurts me to see poor human beings on the streets wearing this unfortunate combo. I would never personally have strength to rock the gray-on-gray even as loungewear like he does, but God love him for it.

You may be wondering, with all of that passion behind my hatred for the gray-on-gray, what I could possibly love about this fashion choice. It all goes back to a time when my life was simpler: first grade. In first grade I specifically remember watching the best TV program of the early 90s, Power Rangers. Yes, my friends, I did enjoy the horribly meshed scenic combinations of American hotties and clearly dubbed kung-fu scenes from Asia for 30 minutes a day, every day. In that enriching half hour, I also developed a soft spot for the gray-on-gray that I try with all my might to loathe.

Say hello to my little friend:
Yes, my secret crush on the gray-on-gray can be accredited to the Power Rangers' enemy known as the Putty. This poor guy; not only does he have to wear this horrendous all gray get-up, he has to inevitably get his ass kicked by the Power Rangers every single episode without fail. The Puttys were idiots and always outsmarted by the Power Rangers, allowing them to get one step closer to the episode's enemy. Although I enjoyed watching them get their gray asses kicked, I felt a little bad for these guys because of their sealed fates.

And every time my dad walks down the stairs rocking his Yankees t-shirt with his gray shorts, I am held from vomiting only by my unconditional soft spot for the Putty that made my childhood such a gas. I guess the Putty was the first gray-on-gray that I pitied, but certainly not the last. And certainly not the last to get his ass kicked by society...

Bottom line: I'm probably the only fully judgemental person on this planet with any sort of sympathy for the failure that is gray-on-gray. So please refrain unless you want your ass kicked Ranger-style (and remember, I'm the Yellow one).

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