Sass. Lots of sass.

I have just discovered that one of my favourite jackets has the words “free & sassy” emblazoned on the front. I’m as of yet unsure whether this makes me like the jacket more or less. Free & Sassy. What the hell does that even mean? How do you characterise someone as having sass. “Hey man, you’ve got the crazy sass happening today.” “Shit, y’all better not be fronting. I’m sassy to the max. For real.” “Mate, that Bazza, now that’s a bloke who knows where his sass is.”

I guess this is what happens when you buy your clothes in China and have to basically engender the third world war in order to manoeuvre yourself into a bargaining position where you are not paying seventy times what you should. Instead you pay thiry times as much and the look the salesperson gives you suggests that you are personally ripping the food from their childrens’ mouths. Then throwing it on the ground, spitting on it, and dancing a jig.

A sassy jig.

Posted in Rant on Tuesday January 24, 2006.