funny story …

last week whilst walking down to school (babe was going to meet her advisor, i was picking up my brand new I-20) we got stopped by a guy. he waived around his fancy camera and told us that he ran a street fashion blog. you know, like the sartorialist, named photo shark or something (my brain decided to forget since it hurt me so much obviously).

at first he asked if he could take a photo of babe, which is understandable, she looks gorgeous and has a great fashion sense. me on the other, i just basically close my eyes and hope for the best while rolling around my clothes on the floor.

so no hard feeling yet. but …

… then he told me to stand next to babe in the photo - ohmygodohmygodohmygod! (imagine the crushing of the forever alone-guy and goddamn unicorns crying with joy over my head). so i took my millisecond of confusion and went into a state of thanking the fashion community for finally somewhat accepting me. then i stood next to babe and we pretented to talk to each other while he snapped some shots. he then gave us the adress and went on.

3 days later we go on the page and this is what i see:

MOTHERF-CKER CUT ME OUT!

rejected by d-list fashion blog … awesome. what a great start on the new year. perhaps i should start my own fashion blog, all about being hobo-chic. i’m pretty sure i can do a better job than him no matter how bad i run it. ungh.

no, it doesn’t hurt.

at all.