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I am often baffled when I'm downtown and I see women walking along viagra and alcohol in heels as if they are wearing pillows on their feet. And you know that they do it day-in viagra and alcohol, day-out. They have to be crying on the inside like I am when I wear heels, right? Case in point: I normally only wear heels when I know for sure that I will mostly be standing still or sitting—definitely not walking city blocks. But a few weeks ago, I dusted off some of my heels when played dress-up to go have drinks at . I was in pain by the time I walked one block—up Nob Hill, of course. But I surely did look cute! The question I pose is this: Is it so wrong of me to find myself a little jealous of a woman I saw today, in a wheelchair, wearing some fierce patent-leather, high-heeled boots? She gets to wear ANY shoes she wants—regardless of comfort and ease of maneuverability in the city, no less! It really does feel a little politically incorrect. . . but what the hell. Viagra and alcohol you go, girl! (yeah, i wrote it).  

These are a quick and dirty sample of some shoes I would almost kill for, just to be able to wear them.
It's true. I'm a suppressed shoe lover. And by suppressed I mean that I adore shoes. I am just not able to foster that love due to the painful truth that I simply can't wear some shoes gracefully or comfortably and, sadly, a general lack of justifiable funds. So, the [viagra and alcohol] next time you see me in my 'sensible' shoes, know that, on the inside, I'm wearing those delicious snake-skin peep-toes. Update: Seen on Twitter: "I'd like to take these shoes, dig a grave with their five-inch heels and toss them in. And then spit on the mound of dirt. " by Dooce, 7/14/08


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