Domo arigato Mr. Moschino

I've got a secret I've been hiding under my coat. I starve my brain for blood every morning using a 100% silk Versace noose that is home to a delicate menagerie of biological opportunistic bastards (of the highest caliber) that I've collected during my travels through other people's nasty bits. My dilemma is this: how do I look presentable, and yet demand more of this season's catalog by not killing people who touch me?

I have considered the collarless shirt. Elegant, simple, no WMDs, and quite frankly, sexy. And I'm nothing if I'm not a sexy son of a blastula. But my neck is half a meter long and a size 14 1/2, so the collarless shirt makes me look like a closed tufted umbrella with an Adam's apple. Still sexy, but come on, add 1 crucifix and stir and I'm Father Late-for-Baptism. (Yes, of course the shirt will be black. That's how I roll.)

The bowtie. A timeless accoutrement that is as infused with suave lightness as it is heavy with brainiosity. Each bowtie comes with a spray bottle of 10 extra IQ points applied straight up the nose where you can smell the ideas.

No, the bowtie is not really timeless, rather wherever it goes it drapes everything within 2 meters of its frilly ends with a thin dusty coat of 1925 and a nice lacquer of pre-depression art-deco Gatsbitude (you're not going to get this stuff anywhere else, I speak a quaint dialect of northern arse, 3, 2, 1, never mind).

The bowtie offers the dull shirt an opportunity to charleston its way into the limelight. That might make the shirt yellow and accentuate my sweat stains (which are almost as sexy as my remarkably toneless ass) but every day wearing a bowtie is a day of greatness and respect.

Certainly the bowtie is more difficult to weaponize.

There is a simpler option. If Yossarian can get a medal pinned to his naked chest in wartime, I could certainly get used to the feel of stethoscope rubber around my bare neck and pens tegadermed to my chest hair.

You know what else is timeless? Styx.

The problem's plain to see/
Too much technology/
Machines to save our lives/
Machines dehumanize.

This of course makes so much more sense if you take out all these words and add different words that are more relevant. Actually I just like this song because I'm old skool and I kick it like hitops in 1983.

And I found a Moschino bowtie that matches my chest hair. Domo arigato, Mr. Moschino.