I feel like a redneck

Over at The Adventures of Roberta X, there was discussion of the validity of combat boots as dress wear.   I typed my comment/response.  Hit post.  And then re-read what I’d typed*.  Oh well.




*I really did though, along with black jeans and a new blouse I’d bought for the occasion.  Course, my “wedding” was standing in front of a judge in her home office.  I refuse to spend thousands to notify the government of a promise between myself and my husband.  My mother managed to restrain her opinion of my mode of dress, which is good, because my backup wear was a Tshirt that read “I’m out of bed and dressed, what more do you want?”.

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