By Dom Sinacola· Jun 05, 2013
Though the onset of summer almost totally means the complete revamping of one’s arsenal of accoutrement, it is you, Provident Podophiliac, who must bravely suffer the calloused claws and groping grips of hormonal wage slaves clumsily stuffing your toes into all manner of seasonal footwear. Here at Missed Manners, we know there is no more dangerous article of clothing to shop for than shoes, so we’d like to offer a few phrases to help tamp down that clerk’s wandering fingers and safely usher you back to the parking lot with new pumps in hand.
Oh, please do be careful…
- My toenails are like Avril Lavigne’s teeth.
- Because those aren’t varicose veins, they’re actually pieces of licorice. And you can’t have any.
- Because I’m almost positive the foot-and-mouth’s all cleared up, but I still haven’t “confirmed” with a “doctor.”
- My colostomy bag has been leaking lately. In fact, can you burp it while you’re down there?
- Because that ingrown toenail finally stopped leaking pus.
- I’m really sick of getting “foot boners.”
- Because if my feet had a theme song, it would be “Sewer in Super Mario Bros.”
- Because if you chip my Confederate flag toenail polish, so help me God…
- If you ever want to see your homely wife and disappointing children again. Because I have a gun in my purse, and it’s pointed at you, and if you tickle me I won’t be held responsible for the havoc it will wreak on your stupid face. I’ve killed men for less.
- It’s like a The-Dream song down there.
- I’ve lubed up my feet with some seriously viscous moisturizer. It’s pretty slick down there. You might slip and lose an eye.
- Because…what’s the opposite of a footjob? I’m really good at that. It hurts a lot.
- Because if you chip my swastika nail polish, so help me God…
- I had curry for lunch and I’m all sorts of volatile.
- That smell is not what you think it is…it’s much worse. Like: your nightmares manifest worse.
- There’re a lot of sharp objects underneath all that knuckle hair.
- …have you ever seen Human Centipede? That’s how my toes work.
- Because my legs just go straight from calves to feet. I suspect my ankles were absorbed by an alternate universe? But I can’t be certain. Anyway: watch your fingers.
- That’s where my butthole is.
- Because I never truly understood the lyrics to that Annie Lennox song? So I walked all over broken glass. I thought that’s what it was telling me to do.
- I’ve noticed you have hooks for hands. Why you’d ever be hired as a shoe salesman is anyone’s guess. Oh? Well I suppose that makes sense.
- Because I saw you tying that poor woman’s laces over there, and I’m surprised anyone even lets you near a woman with those graceless, sausage fingers of yours, let alone a fucking simple knot. You worthless shitheel. I fucking hate you.
- …SURPRISE! I don’t have feet!