Ace Couture

We went to see Adam Carolla last Saturday night. As Mister Johnny-on-the-Ticket-Master-web-site, I managed to score us second row seats. He put on a great, ninety-minute show and stayed after the show, though he was obviously beat, to sign stuff. (We even got our photo taken by Mike Lynch.) On the way home, we were talking about how it seemed that Carolla had just walked in from the other room and started talking. When I mentioned that someone in the crowd had yelled that he was wearing the same shirt as the last time he came to town, my spouse commented that he spends most of his day wearing sweats and his pants looked a little like sweats.

“You’re right,” I agreed, “they did look like poplin sweats.”

My spouse laughed and said, “Are you Carson Kressley? Not just sweats. Not even cotton sweats. But poplin sweats.”

“No,” I corrected, “poplin is an inherently funny word.”

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