I was going to say I may have to post a retraction on Reason # 845 of my 1049 reasons people hate the states series, after seeing these Liberace inspired kicks (shoes or sneakers for you non slang savvy folks out thurr) but even though I would so rock these kicks, even though i care not for shoes, does not change the sheer Beraceness of the “man” that is Liberace (uncyclopedia on Liberace, funny funny isht. I suggest checking out this site) .
Although being the inspiration for such A.W.E.S.O.M-O* shoes is rather notable, at least blogable, it is not enough to make me ponder being Liberace let alone rAnt about. Let me tell you what happened (see my previous thoughts on the man, the myth, the lib, here). So It is a good day.
I wake up to see my clay sculpture of a smiling baby Hippo**, is drying evenly and the cracks I fixed are nowhere to be seen. Get money to be productive in the day. I then go to the Vittorio market to buy some meat. Beef, goat, tuna, chicken and liver, even went to some new stands since the one I used to go to gave me some spoiled chickens last time.
On the way home, being Friday and all, I decide to get a bottle of Jack Daniels for the weekend. So I stop by a Liquor store in Testaccio. I go in the proprietor is outside and asks what I want, I reply, “un bottiglie di Jack Daniels.” He goes to get it from the back. I give him the 50 euro in my hand. I am looking around the store and then look towards him and the fucker is checking the note in the fucking light like the shit is fucking counterfeit. He mutters some isht while looking at the note, I feel a blank stare coming across my face, and softly say, “huh?’ inside I am thinking you fekkin guy, if I had a glove I would smack you in the faccia and challenge your ass to a duel!!!
I try calling Rocco, not only because sometimes you need to rAnt and there is not laptop or internet connection for you to do it, on but being a rum drinker extrordinare or however you spell that he frequents this russian liqour store on Vialle Trastevere, to get the good rum. I was regretting not doing the same and was going to ask him about prices there. He does not pick up. I consider leaving the store but the thought of 2 kilos of lemons and the flavorful Jack infused whiskey sours to come made me stay. (Jack has powers of flavor) The guy got a phone call then I got to thinking. Who the fraque is this guy to me, and why should i care what he thinks? Sure I was looking a lil rough, (gym shorts, collared t-shirt, uncombed hair with a pencil in it) and did not have a wallet (I hate them and usually carry my money in either my bag that has a sketchbook and a book in it at all times amongst other things, or in the actual book or sketchbook if the bag is not present.)
I decided the guy really ain’t sheit to me, so why let him affect me? Let me get my beverage and be gone. I head out and tell my ride that the guy in there was checking my money in the light, between chuckles he says “But who is more crook than Italians?!” Who indeed.
To wrap this up I wonder if the guy would have checked my money if I was dressed like Liberace, I refuse to make this a race thing. It had to be the clothes.
- Thanks to shoeblog.com for making me aware of my possible future kicks, there is also a close up of the patriotic ones from the picture above. See the entry and check out the rest of the blog here
- Although you cannot get the pictured ones you can buy other Liberace kicks and goods here
- *Mon Pot Robot, 37 seconds of pure goodness, in french.
- **Gallery of the hippo and some hand sculptures for an upcoming show in Milan coming soon