This one is from a ways back, like March or so. But I decided to post it tonight.
As I was getting ready to leave the Continental President’s Club (I’ll explain why I was in this den if ill repute somewhere else) in Houston on my way to Panama, I chanced to spy a curious magazine. A big heavy colorful pile of oversized papers bound together under the masthead “Revolution: The World’s Ultimate Watch Lifestyle Magazine.”
I picked it up and flipped through a few pages. Sexy, scantily clad women with large, bulbous watches salivating over dusty jean-wearing male model counterparts who, though wearing dusty dungarees, appeared to have recently exited the shower with salon-tousled hair. Oh yeah, they also wore large watches.
I’m always amazed at all of the niches that we find to fill with magazines and the like. Someone is earning their living by hyping the latest watches that cost more than any home I’ve ever lived in (yeah, I’m going to end the sentence with a preposition!). Check it out here.
That’s all I have actually right now. I’m wearing an old Timex Ironman watch with a worn out velcro strap that comes undone when I jump off diving boards, so I have to grasp at it as I plunge into water.