Dope Boots

Dope Boots

Hey, remember that time that UK customs tried to hold my Birthday Boots for ransom?


After my package got returned to E in the states, she drove down to Charleston for the summer with The Boots in tow. Eventually, they made their way to my parents, who then brought them on vacation to Ireland, and then mailed them to me on a day trip to the North. And then they arrived on Monday, and I’ve been trying to force them on my feet ever since. I finally succeeded this morning, and so even though they are kind of giving me blisters and even though I will have to sleep in them, because they are literally never coming back off my feet because the ankles are too narrow and the local cobbler didn’t have the right kind of leather stretcher, and even though they’ve now racked up the carbon footprint of a small country (hah, footprint! see what I did there?), I am taking this as a good omen that things are looking up in my complete shitstorm of a week.I mean, just look at them. Who needs bare feet, really? Not me.

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