I wanted to show you guys my new boots.
But there's a problem, see.
Much like the dreaded Ogopogo, my new boots defy photography.
First, I gave my camera to the Biscuit.
So there's me, mostly out of focus, sticking my butt out, with a big red blur over the boots.
And, yeah, I continue to blame the Ogopogo, mostly because he threatened to eat me on Twitter.
So I gave the camera to Dr. Krog.
So there's the boots, my jeans, the boxes stacked up for the recycling bin on the dining room table, and the enormous sun spot we keep on the front of the fridge for no good reason. But where's my head? That could be ANYBODY, right there.
That could even be the Ogopogo, *pretending* to be me, wearing my new booties, getting its sloppy plesiosaurus slime all over the buttery cognac leather and adorable, cone-shaped heels.
Plus, you can't see the three ruffles on back, and those ruffles are IMPORTANT.
So I finally tried to get a picture myself.
And there's my boot, playing chameleon against the boot-colored floor.
So what did we learn today?
1. These boots are awesome.
2. I'm the only one in the family with a flair for photography.
3. IT IS ALL THE OGOPOGO'S FAULT.