Shitkicker

I saw a tomboy wearing a pair of shitkickers.

A week after his feat, Don Eyles, wearing John Lennon glasses, a drooping mustache, long blond hair, black cords and shitkickers, walks down a long hall past phones labeled “Don’t Chatter Classified Matter” and red padlocked waste cans marked “Classified Waste Only” on his way to Draper’s million-dollar mockup of the Lunar Module.

I have a shitkicker of a headache.