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I'd prefer the avant-garde, baroque stylings of the bourgeois over the litany of lurid garbs of the common mercenary. I mean to make no tirade, not to equivocate the lives of the nouveau-riche, but simplistic clothes have a cloying, brusque effect, and I feel it quintessential to ostracize them to oblivion.

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My fashion sense may sometimes be unrequited. I would prefer to be over dressed. I'm always a harbinger of new fashion. A suit properly represents my suave, charismatic, and gregarious attitude. I am not really a minimalist. I love to create new avant guard looks. People will often ogle at me, like my fashion is the antidote to all their maudlin problems. My mantra is "dress for success." I may be slightly bravado.

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This is a catch-22 that causes an abmormaly gregarious tirade of obscure lurid words.  The answer to this questoin requires some finagleing around some paradoxicol freudian slips.  I would rather be overdressed because it is more suited to my brusque bravodo of lurid and cloying tyrades that take a ubiquitous ammount of suave stoic charisma.  My precociouus nature causes me to have a idylic number of infintesimaly indelicate enimies.

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I would rather be underdressed because it is quintessential to wear no clothes and have everyone see my Freudian Slip.  When ever they see it they get a sense of Deja Vu.

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I don't hate anybody, scientists should create an antidote against hate.

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I hated someone once. They were a bona fide idiot. They were the epitome of everything I despise. Ah, they were narcissistic, vile, overly zealous, and terrible person. They made me peevish to say the least. I am not just an angsty teen. I have real reasons to hate them. Their whole life was a fiasco. They are the textbook definition of faux pas fashion. Everyday in class they went on a tirade with their capricious attitude.  We ostracized them from our group. This made them revel in self pity.

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I hate my Chinese teacher in the middle school. She is so peevish that she always scolds student without appropriate reasons. I don't like her and she died. I believe it should be "so", not "and".

I would like to be underdressed. I don't want to spend time on dressing. It's n epitome of my personality.

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I have hated the baroque hedonist that caused so much angst within my life. His zealous attitude for long tests ostracized my short-attention brain. He loved to ogle at my test and make narcissistic comments about my wrong answers. I only finagled in his class, which turned out to be a fiasco.

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I hated one of my teachers in elementary school because she did not like me after I made a Freudian slip.

By being over dressed, you would receive more accolades. So I would rather be over dressed.

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I had some teenage angst and the only antidote was a caustic and insidious solution to dip them in a vile pit of Caustic Soda.

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Dr. Stevens, the charismatic, narcissistic, over-zealous sycophant received many accolades for his idyllic, idiosyncratic advances in the art of Freudian Slips. I, on the other hand, am a disheveled spartan anomaly, my deeds are infinitesimal in comparison, though a precocious minimalist, I hardly revel in this lack of quid-pro-quo.

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I have to say coming to a party underdressed is almost always a fiasco. People will judge your indelicate sense of fashion. Not always must you be in a intricate and beautiful garb, but it is quintessential to have a suave and stoic demeanor in public. You never want to be the anomaly is my mantra. I will always maintain that it is a faux pas to be underdressed. I find myself gregarious and part of my attitude is to always be kitsch. Part of that is to be completely and totally "on fleek."

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I hate any vicarious person who has a narcissistic attitude  or who likes quid pro quo situations, these are the people I hate the most. Don't even get me started on Machiavellian, infinitesimal, zealous people who think they live in an idyllic life and live their life with elan, when really they have a feeling of overwhelming angst.

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I have hated vile and narcissist people whose names were Accolade, Acrimony, Angst, Anomaly, Antidote, Avant-garde, Bona Fide, Boondoggle, Bourgeois, Bravado, Brogue, Brusque, Byzantiine, Cacophony, Camaraderie, Capricious, Carte Blanche, Catch-22, Caustic, Charisma, Cloying, Deja Vu, Dichotom, Dilettante, Disheveled, Elan, Ennui, Epitome, Equanimity, Equivocate, Esoteric, Euphemism, Fait Accompli, Fastidious, Faux Pas, Fiasco, Finagle, Freudian Sliip, Glib, Gregarious, Harbinger, Hedonist, Heresy, Idiosyncratic, and Baroque.

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I revel  in looking like a disheveled, grunge lesbian who crawled out of the mid to late 90's. Despite the stigma around showing up at a party dressed like this, I do so anyway, not filled with ennui but exuding bravado. It might not be the height of propriety, but flannels and beat up sneakers are quintessential to my wardrobe. Besides, I much prefer them to suave, and in my opinion, kitschy, fancy clothes.