[Note: I beg everyone not to read this. It isn’t funny at all]
There are some cruel parents in this world and they need to be dealt with quick-fast and in a hurry. I’m not talking about the parents who beat Johnny until he looks like he got in an MMA fight with Brock Lesnar; or little Suzy who got shoved in a 2×2 closet with a dog bowl full of her own urine for a month. Though they too suck at parenting and life in general, I’m speaking on behalf of the Mongo’s and Corky’s of the world; the mentally disabled whose parents seemed to give up on dressing these poor individuals in respectable clothing. I’m almost positive that 30% of these short-bus, fashion failures aren’t actually all that slow; they just play the part mommy dressed them up for.
It’s disgusting! For the love of baby-in-a-manger Jesus, just because he or she is retarded doesn’t mean they have to dress like it as well! From my extensive, border-line stalking observations, I’ve noticed a certain “uniform” for the mentally impaired. Starting from the bottom (shoes you perverts) to the top, I will describe as best I can in stereo-typical fashion…their fashion.
It starts with 1987 era, matte-black, Velcro sneakers designed for the geriatric on the go. They are surprisingly expensive as you can see here. Social Security should not be able to buy kicks like that.
Next we work up to the socks; do I even need to explain what they look like? Just think 70’s athletic socks. They’re white, knee high socks with the different color bands at the top, usually variations of reds, yellows and blues.
Then we have the pants; oh dear God, the pants. I don’t even know where you buy pants like this except the dumpster behind Good Will; and it’s pretty bad when Good Will doesn’t want your shit and throws it out back. They’re like impossibly think khakis, as if their parents are worried they’re going to spontaneously light themselves on fire and require extra flame-retardant material because Lord knows Mongo will just stand there beating his arm on his chest and mumbling incoherently as he cooks to a nice, even 185 degrees F.
The other requirement apparently, is that these pants be able to avoid floods at all costs.
Working our way up, we head to the shirt. This is a complete give-up on the parent’s part. They hand poor Ludo a sweat-shirt with no buttons or other difficult fasteners and tell him to get his own ass ready. Forget the fact that it’s July in the middle of a heat wave, I suppose he needs the extra padding in case he falls? I don’t know but I’ve seen many a retard with massive strength; they’re like the Incredible Hulk without the gay jorts. And if the parents do decide to go with a t-shirt, it’s always one of those cutesy children’s/grandma looking ones with a picture of Mickey Mouse or puppies and kittens on the front. This poor bastard doesn’t stand a chance in the outside world. Everyone within a one mile radius immediately puts on the ‘understanding and sympathetic’ eyes when they see Timmy coming, because no one dresses like that except the mentally handicapped.
I get that it’s best for them to have a certain amount of independence, and that includes dressing themselves with clothes they are able to put on without help. But I think a nice pair of jeans and a slick polo shirt might do the fella some good and even boost his/her self-confidence. Give that special man a special feeling.
So parents of these handi-capable, fashion castaways, quit being dicks; I truly believe the way you dress them is much harsher than the words I’ve used in this article. Give them a fighting chance at being normal and accepted, because the attire they’re currently in makes them more of an outcast than the mental disabilities you stuck them with…thanks to you and your inbreeding. Yes, I blame it all on you parents. I kid, I kid…but seriously, you suck.