Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Chapter 6: When shoes make you ruin your finances.

So yeah. Spending a substantial percentage of your paycheck on a single pair of boots is not something, let's say, SENSIBLE.
And it takes me to the following question: What drives a middle-class human being to invest such outrageous amount of money in mere feet decoration?

Since I hadn't had the time/intellectual capacity to elaborate persuasive arguments, I'm going to let the following images do the job.

So after all these powerful, undebatable reasons of why these boots should be decorating my feet, I committed the sweet, sweet crime of heading off to the Bal Harbor Shops and asked (with a fake Russian accent) if I could try a pair on.

180 seconds later, a glorious bag containing a glorious box containing a glorious pair of boots was given to me while bells rang and a gospel choir sang and flowers blossomed. Yes, that actually happened.

Now my feet get more compliments than my grandma's ham and cheese pie. And trust me, that was one fucking delicious pie.

And of course, I would never end a post about boots without the following video:

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Chapter 5: When you decide to leave the theater and end up howling at the full moon.

So last weekend the Independent European Film Festival came to the state of the oranges, and I headed to the Miami Beach Cinematheque based on the fact that they never seem to faux pas on their film selections.
13 dollars later ($10 for the ticket and $3 for the mixed nuts), I was ready for the evening feature; Palazzo Delle Aquile.
45 minutes into the movie, due to the complete absence of a script and the overdose of screaming italians, me and my party left the building regretting having lost 45 minutes of youth.

But hey! Night is young, so am I, and the moon happens to be full.

So we headed to this art gallery called Moksha where the fullness of this luminous body of the heavens was a perfect excuse to dance barefoot, play with fire (literally), eat weird-yet-delicious ethnic food, and drink Newcastle.

For some unexplainable reason, this was also taking place.

These are some of the characters I found portrait-worthy:

And of course it can't be a party without the terrible inverted Rolling Stones tattoo which I believe is awesome and very, very rock n roll.

Sweet times.