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A woman manager told my boss that I dressed sloppy. She had a tatoo on her arm. I wore a vest love. BC-A, Bill’s Roost
posted by
BC-A
on September 11, 2009 at 11:00 PM
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wear appropriate for the occassions.....if it's business, look business....
if it's fun, look sporty.......but kind of clean appearance......
lousy looking......nahhhhhhhhhh.............
also some people never wear appropriate.....yuk.....
look at the people finger nail and shoes......you can tell a lot....
if it's a summer day with a fooling glass...if it's night with real eyes.....hahaha..
posted by
Star5_
on September 11, 2009 at 4:34 AM
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People do tend to judge each other by appearances; unfortunately. The moment I read your post I thought of the following song, which sums up my feelings about the topic:
R.P. Weston and Bert Lee, 1940 Our Aunt Hannah's passed away;
We'd her funeral today,
And it was a posh affair -
Had to have two p'licemen there!
The 'earse was luv'ly, all plate glass,
And wot a corfin! oak and brass!
We'd fah-sands weepin', flahers galore,
But Jim, our cousin - what d'yer fink 'e wore?
Why, brahn boots! I ask yer - brahn boots!
Fancy comin' to a funeral in brahn boots!
I will admit 'e 'ad a nice black tie,
Black fingernails and a nice black eye;
But yer can't see people orf when they die in brahn boots!
And Aunt 'ad been so very good to 'im,
Done all that any muvver could fer 'im,
And Jim, her son, to show his clarss,
Rolls up to make it all a farce
In brahn boots - I ask yer - brahn boots!
While all the rest
Wore decent black, and mourning suits.
I'll own he didn't seem so gay;
In fact he cried best part the way,
But straight, he reg'lar spoilt our day
Wiv 'is brahn boots.
In the graveyard we left Jim;
None of us said much to him.
Yus, we all give 'im the bird,
Then by accident we 'eard
'E'd given 'is black boots to Jim Small,
A bloke wot 'ad no boots at all.
So p'raps Aunt Hannah doesn't mind;
She did like people who was good and kind.
But brahn boots! I ask yer - brahn boots!
Fancy coming to a funeral in brahn boots!
And we could 'ear the neighbours all remark,
'Wot, 'im chief mourner? Wot a bloomin' lark!
'Why, 'e looks more like a bookmaker's clerk - in brahn boots!'
That's why we 'ad to be so rude to 'im,
That's why we never said 'Ow do!' to 'im.
We didn't know - he didn't say
He'd give 'is other boots away.
But brahn boots! I ask yer - brahn boots!
While all the rest
Wore decent black, and mourning suits!
But some day up at Heaven's gate
Poor Jim, all nerves, will stand and wait
Till an angel whispers 'Come in, Mate.
Where's yer brahn boots?'
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posted by
elinjo
on September 11, 2009 at 12:29 AM
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