Even famous writers & cute blondes dig Bill Wetzel's Jacket. (BWJ is on the short guy at the left, as if you could take your eyes off of him)
My jacket felt compelled to write a column in support of Samantha Brick, he feels they are kindred spirits. - Bill
I feel Samantha Brick's pain.
I'm a Kenneth Cole Reaction jacket, beautiful, sexy and you would think the only "reaction" to me would be a positive response to all of this effing hotness. But no. Turns out, like Ms. Brick, I am hated for my beauty. People. Jealous poet friends of my owner, Bill. Other jackets. It just never ends. Even Bill has taken to hiding me away in the closet now, saying "It's too hot out to wear you." Yeah, "too hot", I get that a lot.
As you would imagine.
Recently Bill and I went out to dinner with a gorgeous young woman. She said he "looked different" and couldn't take her eyes off of me. The next day she even bought us coffee. He was surprised, but, of course, I wasn't. You see, all my life women have fawned over me. It's just how it is when you're this sexy.
When I started my twitter feed months ago, people immediately took notice. I was called "the greatest storyteller of this generation" by one reader. A female admirer called me a "sexy b*tch" and said that wearing me would keep her "so warm."
Now I know other less pretty tweeters (like my owner and his poet friends) don't get that kind of attention, but hey, I can't help it that I am beautiful, it's not my fault you bridge trolls don't get any action.
And that is the bottom line. Because of my looks, most others consider me a threat, even when I'm not. The truth is, I want to use my sexiness for good, not evil. I am here to help. But others don't see it that way. Some people, who shall remain nameless, show their jealousy, by say, oh locking me in a closet because they think they can get girls on their own. It just doesn't work that way. Work with me, people, not against me!
Oh I am sure if you're reading this you have already judged me. You think I am arrogant. Delusional. Or just some irritating whackjob trying to play victim. And you might be right. I am smug. Wouldn't you be? I do flirt. Yeah I probably would steal your girlfriend from you. Could you blame her? Look at me, for f**k's sake! But that doesn't mean that once you get past my resplendent slutty exterior that I am not a hooker with a heart of gold.
I care, I really do.
And I have feelings.
Like last month when my owner took me off before speaking in public. I knew he did it because he was afraid I would steal his thunder. That more people would pay attention to me than him. That night I had to be consoled by the other clothes in the closet, I was hurt so bad.
It's not that I can dress down, I am who I am. A very sexy jacket. I can't hide that. I just have to look forward to getting older, faded and tattered. So then everybody will stop judging me on my looks and focus on who I am as a jacket.
Until then, stop treating me so harshly, it's not my fault.
Yes, I'm ridiculously hot. I have learned to live with this horrific burden, you should too.
Don't hate the player, hate the game.
Bill Wetzel's Jacket:
https://twitter.com/#!/BillWetzelsJack
Samantha Brick's original article:
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