If you recently tried to access awkwardmodel.com-- because you were looking to be cheered up by my foibles, or eager to see if I got into the Model Lounge yet, or hey, I don't know, maybe you've got a thing for guys in drag-- you've probably been hit with some variation of that annoying "Page Not Found" error. And since I know you were crying about it all night into your pillow, allow me to explain.
I started this blog about a year ago, deciding to put my awkwardness out there right around last year's September New York Fashion Week-- aka NYFW S/S '11 to those who know the lingo, or just have an obsession with abbreviations (I thought about typing "abbrevs" for you there, but...no).
So after a year, the domain expired-- in the middle of this most recent batch of Fashion Weeks-- and I didn't renew it because, hey, I was kind of in the middle of Fashion Week.
Well...that and the fact that I had recently lost the debit card that was set to auto-pay it, in what is the real story here.
I had been out with a couple of buddies for an exceptionally super rowdy night which involved downloading Star Wars Kinect and mock podracing all over a living room in Brooklyn.
It looked pretty much like this, minus the being alone and stereotype male-model skateboard.
In order to better direct my pod through the dangerous virtual canyons of the Tatooine desert, I took my valuables out of my shorts. Not like this, I mean I took out my keys and stuff, come on now.
As I left, I realized I'd forgotten to pick up said keys and stuff, and promptly called my friend, who met me at his door with them. Boring story, right?
Except when I got home, my debit card was gone. Understanding the chances were it was simply back at my friend's place, but also understanding that I'm a moron who very well could've lost it on my way back, I decided to report my card missing and cancel it.
Of course, I wake up the next morning to a text that my card was found under my friend's couch. He jokes that he's going to use it to buy Domino's that night-- my friend being foreign and not realizing that choosing to get Domino's in New York City is like visiting Italy and deciding to eat at an Olive Garden. I appropriately joke that, in addition to chain pizza, some vile, probably-illegal, possibly-cartoon-themed pornography showed up on my bank account from him as well. You know, the kind of things friends say to each other.
He decides to be a good friend when disposing of my card though, and cuts it into pieces before tossing it.
Only he and I...we use the same bank, and thus have the same bank card. And instead of cutting up my cancelled card, he accidentally cut up his own.
And that is why we are friends.
EDIT: Oh, and P.S....I'm baaack, bitches!
