- Jimmy DiResta
- So Delicious Coconut flavor nondairy frozen dessert
- Milka Oreo Big Crunch Bar
- Nautica pajamas
- The Secret History
This morning I bought a new shirt at the dollar store so I’d have another short sleeved shirt to wear to work, since it’s winter and I will have absolutely no need for a jacket for the next ten days at least. Plus, it gets warm doing all that engraving at the speed of light, y’all.
I didn’t expect this severe of an outcome.
The first few hours I was at work, I watched my hands in amazement and wonder, trying my damnedest to figure out what on earth was rubbing off on me that had never done that before.
Oh. It’s my new shirt. Screw it, nothing I can do until I get home.
I got home and took a shower and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. And I’m still a little grey.
But isn’t that a beautiful thing? My life is chock full of these gloriously rich tidbits of real life, and so is everyone else’s. That blows my mind.The hundreds and thousands of strangers that I see every day are living the same vida loca that all of us are.
Anyway, wash new clothes before you wear them, especially when they only cost a few bucks.
I don’t wear tshirts. Okay, I take that back; I have one tee, it’s an ugly brown and has a tiny useless pocket on the left breast and the deep v shows my sports bra.
But I don’t wear shirts logoed within an inch of their life. I don’t advertise brand names or support my favorite teams or express cleverly snide sentiments. Not that I can’t appreciate these things; a guy just walked past me in a baby pink shirt with a screen printed pink-frosted yellow donut, and I smiled and nodded at him. You can’t argue a bold donut shirt.
I would love to be the average boringly-dressed person in a tee, jeans, and sneakers, but I can’t. See, I have to be wearing something uniquely me at all times, because the outfit you die in is your ghost outfit forever. Everybody knows that.
I feel bad for all these TapouT douche bags. Mildly bad. A smidgen. Not really much at all, but the sentence flowed in the narrative, so what could I do?
When I was at a summer program at NSU in Natchitoches I was known for my tees featuring Socks the cat–the Clintons’ cat when they were in the White House.
And later in high school I wore the traditional grunge wear: band tees under flannel button ups. I had the GNR The Spaghetti Incident? shirt that everyone said looked like worms. And now that I know how much it goes for on eBay, in hindsight I should have kept it.
I think I forgo tshirts now because I’m judged enough on my physical appearance. I don’t need to provide another avenue for the public’s disgust.
That and you can’t show your shape in a tshirt. They’re boxy and cover up more than most things I wear. It’s hot in Louisiana, and clothes only make that worse.
But I’m pretty sure I’d wear a shirt with a radish on it.