I hate tuxes. (I was once told in a writing class I never took, that your first sentence should set up your piece. And I think that sentence is a pretty strong example of that.)
So I have to get a tux for a wedding I am going to. Did you get that? Not in, but going to. What horse shit is that? I could see if I was in the wedding party, fine. But to go to a wedding? I will have to eat three dinners and just move my chair to the bar to begin to recoup my losses here.
I don’t know whoever came up with the idea of the tuxedo. But if there is a hell, I hope they are there, suffering the worst eternal fate possible. Like, I don't know; WEARING A TUXEDO! While being forced to listen to Celine Dion. In French. Suffer, you sick bastard.
I don’t like tuxedos. I have only worn a tux a handful of times as I have been in a wedding or two. I actually didn't wear a tux to any of my proms. BECAUSE I DIDN'T GO! And I don’t care what those whiny ass bridesmaids say, tuxes are far more uncomfortable than whatever garish nonsense they are wearing.
|"Testicles are not part of the deal."|
First, the whole process is quite demeaning. You have to go to some hawty tawty store where some handsy little jerkoff has to measure you. They give you a generic white shirt to get your chest measurements. I am sure they wash it after every fitting. They also make you wear a pair of generic pants to get those measurements. Note to the fellas; don’t go to Men’s Wearhouse freeballing. They will NOT like the way you look. Then some dude will run a measuring tape over various parts of your body. I am sure the broad who is Wonder Woman didn't get man handled like I did. I told my guy to not make the chest too tight, as I still had some chest days to do before the wedding. He looked at me and said “Do you even lift, bro?” Asshole.
So let me get this straight. I will most likely wear an undershirt. Then a button down shirt. Then a vest. Then a suit jacket. Then turn the heat on in the oven by restricting any airflow with a tie. How is this comfortable? How is this sexy? I’m pretty sure if you put one of those ghost huntery type heat cams on me, my pits and FUPA would be red. No wonder overheating drunk guys often take off their ties and put it around their head Rambo style. They’re sweating their ass off. I feel like an onion, trapped under layers. As the night goes on, I am sure I will begin to smell like an actual onion.
At least hide a bunny in there or give me those never ending hankies in the pocket so I can do some tricks or something. I will need a thirty minute head start just to open the door to fit though when I am finished. How does one feel comfortable with 18 layers of clothes on? I feel like the Rock says; “10 pounds of monkey crap in a 5 pound bag.” And who in the blue hell wants a five pound bag of monk…..
|"Damn it, Rock! I walked right into that one."|
And, o yea, by the way, some other rank dude just wore this same exact thing, so do you really think it’s clean? That thought will keep me up in my hotel room as I sleep in between sheets with my head on the pillow, drinking a glass of water that is also holding the remote control.
This is way too dressed up for me. I am out of my element. I feel most comfortable in flips, board shorts and a well-worn concert T. If I can ever find a job where that is the dress code, I think I will have found my calling. Until then, the only thing I can tell you is that is not the outfit to wear to any job interview. If only Career Builder told me that sooner.
And tuxes aside, why do we need the tie? What purpose does it serve? Is it supposed to cover up the buttons or something? It serves little purpose other than getting trapped in paper shredders and pulling the wearer into a gruesome, yet compact death. Have they done that yet in a Final Destination?
(I've never seen the movies, but I am pretty sure this is all the good parts.)
|"What's that? Aunt Cloris died? I'm ready."|
I have exactly 6 ties
Fish tie-every guy has to own one
A tie that is an actual piano that I won at Dave and Busters. Only cost me $67
A tie that lights up-for New Years Eve. And funerals, I guess
A Simpsons tie
A Loony Tunes Tie
A Jerry Garcia tie. What else the formal man needs, I do not know.
(Note; I don't know why the rest is formatted like this. But I am too lazy to change it, so just deal, huh?)
Look, I won’t bore you all the details. I went to the wedding. There were many other tools there, stuffed into ill-fitting tuxedos. We’d pass each other and silently nod, as if we were saying, “I feel you brother. You are not suffering alone here. And did you see the bozingas on the blonde bridesmaid? Woot woot!”
I was hit on by almost every available girl at the reception, as well as a few of the “taken” girls. All because I had a tux on. OK, that is a lie. I didn’t get hit on at all, and three people thought I was a waiter. That’s OK, because I spit in their food anyway.
My shirt ended up falling out twice. I didn’t even use the cuff links, because who has time for that nonsense? I took my jacket off, and walked around in the vest like I was some sort of hot shot Vegas card dealer. (I did make a cool 50 bucks playing the shell game.) My feet hurt in my shoes, so I ran around most of the night in socks. I found out the hard way the external pockets on the jacket were sewn shut when I tried to stuff some shrimp in there for the ride back to the hotel. And just because you are wearing a tux doesn’t mean you can pull off James Bond the bar when ordering your Malibu and diet “shaken, not stirred.”
The next day, I returned the tux. Now, you would think they would inspect such a fine garment from such a shady looking character, but they didn’t even bother. Guess they couldn’t smell the left over h'orderves in the pants pocket.
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DVD Bonus Material
Rejected Titles for This Post
No Tux Were Given This Day
How To Wear a Tux
How Not To Wear a Tux
Tuxedos Are For Cats and Penguins, Of Which I Am Neither
My Baby Fits Me Like a Flesh Tuxedo (massive internet points for anyone who gets that reference)
I Feel Like Taxidermy In My Tuxedo