If you wear Crocs and are not under the age of eight, a nurse (on duty), or Mario Batali* I will punch you in the throat. You will receive a bonus trademark Ceci Flick on the Forehead (ouch!) if they are an obnoxious color. Look, I'm not doing this to be mean, it's for your own good. Clearly you have had a lapse in good judgement and I am just going to snap you back into good taste. I will even accompany you to the store and help you pick out new shoes.
Ask Goo what happened to her for just picking up a pair at the store yesterday.
*exempt because he's bigger than me and I want him to cook me something tasty and throat-punching and forehead flicking usually don't open up conversation for "Hey, cook me something tasty, big guy!"
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Don't ask me, I forget.
We were at the clearance section of Wally world, perusing some ladies "evening shoes" complete with clear acrylic soles with an embedded strobe lighting device in its (high) heel. (One might think the fashion savvy daughter might steer her mother away from such an item, right?)
Instead she erupted in a loud barrage of Ceci-disdain when I was distracted by a bin of pseudo-crocs also on clearance. I do not recall what she said...or did...but it was loud and unsoothing... but I'd remember a punch in the throat, surely!
She then explained that if I kept up with her blog, I'd be informed and would have saved myself this tongue thrashing.
Gees, and she says I'm loud!
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