Girls are stupid.

Why are girls stupid? I don't know. I'm not one. But I have cause to believe they are after witnessing the phenomenon known as purse shopping today in Knightsbridge- home to not only one megafancy London department store (Harrod's) but two (Harvey Nichols), oh and the streets filled with Chanel, Hermes, Versace, etc stores. Mumsy took me to Harrod's aka People Palace (thats what I call it because its basically the Palace of Versailles turned into the world's fanciest department store PACKED with people). Anyway, my mum got bitten by the purse shopping bug and made me watch her as she tried on every single bag (all which looked exactly the same to my untrained, un-femmed eye) in the 3 gigantic rooms they sold them from floor to ceiling. It was basically every (straight) man's version of the Inferno. So much so that the outside of Harrod's should read: "To the gentlemen: Abandon All Hope, All Ye Who Enter this Realm." It was painful. And it didn't stop there, mummy made me go to the slightly less obnoxious Harvey Nichol's store. 2 hours of mumsy asking me which bags I liked and if they looked good on her. It was like something from Will&Grace. Now I know why my high school english teacher inquired if I were gay (despite my struggles with those purse-loving dorks, I'm still straight as an arrow, Mr. Brown!). Anyway, my mother finally settled on a fine bag and I was set free of my misery and off to tea (scones rule!).

I simply cannot fathom what makes purses so cool. I mean really! What's the answer here? High heels, I can see. They make you taller, they serve a function. Make-up, OK. It hides how grusome you really look, I get it (By the way, tip to all girls, stop wearing so damn much make-up. You're going to a party, you're not in a Broadway musical!). But really! They're leather cavities for you to hold your shit in. It's not that great. Most of them look like worn out bowling bags anyway, just with an extra pocket and a braid here and there. They're so big, you lose most of the worthless crap your hoarde in there to begin with. Know what? The girl who wins my heart says "fuck it" to the whole purse thing and carries a wallet like me, keys and iPod in a jean pocket. No need for a purse. I'm fully aware if I keep this promise, I'll end up marrying a lesbian, but that's cool. At least I'll never have to go purse shopping.

Its my last night in London before I go back to Ann Arbor in the morning. I hate the plane ride, maybe they'll sit me by a pretty girl again like they did on my way here. Only this time I'll have the bravery to actually say something, unlike last time's 7 hour worldless debacle. Keep your fingers crossed! Oh, who am I kidding, I'll be parked next to a fat guy. Always happens. Damn.

Oh, PS, Happy New Year!

PPS I think I love Kylie Minogue.