Somewhat Stanford

I don't notice toupees.
I think it may be one of my greatest weaknesses. Toupees and eggs.
They're designed to hide shame and ridicule. I'm designed to pinpoint shame and ridicule.
But not in this, the most base of instances of cover-up.
"Isn't it obvious?"
And it's not for me. And that brings me down, sometimes. On my weaker days.
I could never be a detective. Though I have been pondering a trench coat lately.
Because, let's face facts, a trench coat is one of these ideas that pops into my head that I get all excited about, and everyone thinks it's a stupid idea until I follow through with it, and then everyone agrees that I was not quite as misguided on the issue as was originally assumed.
This happens surprisingly often with me.
Occaisonally.
It has happened.

Fedoras are next.
All of the cool kids are going to start wearing fedoras.
Because our society, planet, what have you, has run out of ideas regarding fashion.
All of the mixers and blenders in SEARS look like the blenders and mixers our parents used before we were born.