Not That Horrid Gold Tie Again...

Oh, this tie. As soon as Brian appeared on screen, I felt trepidation. The long shot was misleading, for I knew he owned no solid yellow tie, and that his repetoire of this shade was not, shall we say, promising. When the tight shot came, my heart sank: it was April 30th all over again. Brian had donned his garish satin Salute to The Miss Universe Evening Gown Competition tie. Its high-gloss flecked gold-on-gold shone from his chest like the paillettes on a teenager's purse. I had no stomach for it. It was as if he had mugged a thirteen-year-old coming out of a Claire's and, in a MacGyver-esque maneuver, used the raw materials of her shopping bag to fashion his cravat. Eeeew, Brian Williams. Eeeeew.