While walking down a street in Rome, I passed a tourist shop with t-shirts hanging outside. One in particular caught my eye: in silver sparkly letters, written in a pretty cursive, were the words "Germany Jews." "Germany Jews?" I thought. "That's a pretty ballsy t-shirt to wear. Not the sort of thing I expected to see in Italy. Maybe the East Village or Williamsburg in Brooklyn, but Italy? Maybe it's the name of a punk band. I haven't heard of them before..."
I looked again, only to discover that what the shirt really said was "Armani Jeans."
1 comment:
you just made me spit tea. luckily, no keyboards were hurt in the spewing of hot liquid.
Post a Comment