Jetsweaters
It's summer again, which means a particular problem is rearing its head at me. And for some reason, this summer, it is worse than it's ever been.
I have, shall we say, had some episodes. One day I made the unfortunate mistake of wearing a blue shirt to work and was punished severely for that on the train ride home, resulting in me running to the Gap to buy a new shirt. That scenario repeated itself several weeks later.
I have sweat in Miami, where again I made the monumentally dumb decision of wearing a blue shirt in the middle of the day to lunch and I was asked, "What's going on with you? Are you all right?" Ten minutes in the bathroom with some paper towels and the hand dryer, and I was all right.
I have sweat in Scotland, where a particularly sunny day led to sunburn which led to a sweating fit that I literally could not stop. Then for some reason I went running. Big mistake. I tried Aloe, I tried two showers, I tried holding a glass of ice water on my head and hands, and alas, I failed.
And I have sweat at the new MGM casino at Foxwoods. This was a whole new strata of sweat -- I'm talking groundbreaking, Sputnikian even. Usually, during a particularly bad episode, I'll merely slink off to a bathroom, dry off, cool off, and then emerge, only to repeat the process 30 minutes later. Well, at this club, the bathroom was full of douchebags gelling their hair, the paper towels were being doled out by an illegal immigrant who would only give me one at a time, and the temperature never dipped below the boiling point of water.
I couldn't stop sweating. I tried every trick in the book -- fanning myself, drying myself, drinking cold water, holding ice in my hands, getting in front of fans.... nothing worked. Fairly soon, my hair was soaking wet and I looked like Jason Giambi at a strip club. Lucky for me, I wore a yellow shirt so I thought my problems were isolated to my head. Unlucky for me, my friends had cameras and they proved me wrong:
This was made even worse by yesterday's news that a photo of me as well as friend of the blog PK had made its way on to the MGM's website, which I'm assuming was either a error or a joke.
Help me.
I have, shall we say, had some episodes. One day I made the unfortunate mistake of wearing a blue shirt to work and was punished severely for that on the train ride home, resulting in me running to the Gap to buy a new shirt. That scenario repeated itself several weeks later.
I have sweat in Miami, where again I made the monumentally dumb decision of wearing a blue shirt in the middle of the day to lunch and I was asked, "What's going on with you? Are you all right?" Ten minutes in the bathroom with some paper towels and the hand dryer, and I was all right.
I have sweat in Scotland, where a particularly sunny day led to sunburn which led to a sweating fit that I literally could not stop. Then for some reason I went running. Big mistake. I tried Aloe, I tried two showers, I tried holding a glass of ice water on my head and hands, and alas, I failed.
And I have sweat at the new MGM casino at Foxwoods. This was a whole new strata of sweat -- I'm talking groundbreaking, Sputnikian even. Usually, during a particularly bad episode, I'll merely slink off to a bathroom, dry off, cool off, and then emerge, only to repeat the process 30 minutes later. Well, at this club, the bathroom was full of douchebags gelling their hair, the paper towels were being doled out by an illegal immigrant who would only give me one at a time, and the temperature never dipped below the boiling point of water.
I couldn't stop sweating. I tried every trick in the book -- fanning myself, drying myself, drinking cold water, holding ice in my hands, getting in front of fans.... nothing worked. Fairly soon, my hair was soaking wet and I looked like Jason Giambi at a strip club. Lucky for me, I wore a yellow shirt so I thought my problems were isolated to my head. Unlucky for me, my friends had cameras and they proved me wrong:
This was made even worse by yesterday's news that a photo of me as well as friend of the blog PK had made its way on to the MGM's website, which I'm assuming was either a error or a joke.
Help me.
posted by quint at 8:59 PM
6 Comments:
You can get prescription stuff that will solve the problem in a couple days.
“Sweat from the brow brings help; behind the knees sweat is useless”
This proverb is saying that if you are sweating because you are being productive than that is “good sweat”, but it is “bad sweat” if you are just worrying all the time and sweating as a result.
Is your sweat "good" or "bad"?
What was the ETA on un-buttoning the next button?
Your probably not going to believe this, but....the "word verification" for this post is "dry tv".....he knows....
The cocktail waitresses at Foxwoods must have really been driven wild at the sight of that low button shirt look... Did you have to fight them off tooth and nail?
-Roma
man it's great that the post with the most real comments is about me sweating.
I resent that "real comments" comment.
Post a Comment
<< Home