"After this boring ass thing is over,
Barack and I are goin' out dancin'."
I have to admit because I direct funerals I'm probably a little more particular than most about what proper mourning attire may be. You can always count on some deceased's granddaughter thinking that Nana's funeral is a good place to go whoring around in a tight black mini and crop top like she in 'da club. All the better in case someone hasn't had a chance to admire her new tramp stamp.
I was doing one service and was trying to round up the pallbearers so I could give them their gloves and pin on their boutonnieres, when up walks this schlub. He was the grandson of the deceased and, of course, was wearing a T-shirt. (Ever try pinning a boutonniere on a T-shirt?) Not just any T-shirt but one he picked up in Vegas. I'm sure you've seen them. A promo for some downscale casino with a picture of some zaftig broad on the front. And the slogan? Oh, what the heck...a picture's worth a thousand words.
Yes. This T-shirt. At a funeral. A Catholic funeral. For his grandmother. And he's a pallbearer. With white gloves and a carnation.
Oh well, I gotta say that at least color-wise it's a little more subtle than Michelle's dress.