I was tired of being so clever and self-involved,

I was tired of being so clever and self-involved, but the baroque tapestry of my superior mind had already been woven. I avoided commoners for their sake; even a simple "hello"

proved too much for me. Humanity was beneath me. I could not express enough how much I felt our species was a cancer to our planet

-arium. The stink. The humidity of full-commando underwearless naturalism trapped by the rough fibers of hemp. The Pink Floyd Laser show made me see how gross humanity really

is and I, frankly speaking, reveled in it. There is nothing more heady that the scent of sweaty unwashed bodies moving in unison to Pink Floyd,who were stockholders in Hemp Panties

d and unsurprisingly discovered a complicated net of unscrupulous business transactions between Pink Floyd and apparent ringleader Bob Weir. Hemp Panties were just the tip of the

fallacy pyramid. The fallacious base was bulging with the notion that hemp apparel was IN, despite what GQ insisted. The pyramid came crashing down like The Wall when D'Brickashaw

recanted his earlier praise for hemp fashion. "I was misinterpreted," he lied; but lies from him were as influential as scripture. GQ soon followed, and my ruin was certain. Today,

sackcloth & ashes which used to be the go-to fashion statement for medieval atoners has been shunned by Vogue and the bailiffs are hammering on my door. They've taken the sewing

game to a whole new level, strangely enough. Who would've thought they could sew? Who are they really anyway? That is the real question here. One that will never be answered.