#16. The Bridal Shop

[The style of this entry is much more informal, like it was written for someone in particular]
So you’re getting married? Fuck, I know you call it hand-fastening, but that’s bullshit. It’s a wedding, even if you’re not wearing white. Matt says you should try this place on fourth southwest. The selection is shit and the staff is snotty, but they get all kinds of imported shit. Real weird Asian ju-ju, and we all know that that’s more important than how you look in some photos you’re never going to look at again in your life, right?
The secret is smell. Smell is really key for this kind of thing. If you haven’t learned it already, you’ll learn it soon. Smell tells you what kind of shit has been worked over on what you’re about to wear. Avoid anything herbal. I know you dykes are wild about herbs and poultices and spices and all that shit, but that’s just window dressing. No real powerful stuff is unrefined like that, especially the Asian imports. What you have in that scenario is some factory worker who’s trying to pull a fast one by rubbing the thread with ginseng or something.
If I were you, I’d pick something that smells like fish. Fish means Dagon, God of Agriculture (which means prosperity) for the Canaanites and happiness for the Buddhists. Sure, it stinks, but I’ve smelled that vegan shit you people eat. You have no room to complain.


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