Pain and Horror

This goddamn headache is getting worse. When I awoke this morning the pain was a mild, manageable throb. Annoying, but nothing to write home about. Now we’ve progressed to a full-blown whirlwind of torture, a cranium-breaking Defcon 1 that feels like small creatures have been implanted through my ears, latched tentacles to my brain and have started to squeeze. My eyeballs are being battered from the inside like those huge drums that are hit by Japanese men wearing thongs.

Or maybe I’m just grumbling. Grow a pair and quit whining like a puppy, son.

Of course, my visual pain is only enhanced by this image:

This is from the new Alexander McQueen collection, and if one image has ever conveyed the utterly mind-numbing, pretentious and biblically stupid world of fashion it must surely be this. Seriously, what the hell is that chap wearing, and why would anyone pay good money to replicate this look and basically turn themselves into a tremendous arsehole? Would you walk down your street dressed like a Victorian Spiderman? Of course you wouldn’t. Maybe that’s the whole point of fashion – it exists to remind you that whatever happens in life you’ll always feel comfortable in jeans and a T-shirt, and under no circumstances do you need to pay a grand to look like a dick.