C
Citruscide
Guest
For those of you familiar with my shirt... I have one I wear alot... he's really the apple of my eye... except when he FUCKS up... once... he got some water spilled on him... and the second time, he got himself caught on a tack... after which... I spent a great deal of time MENDING my fucking shirt... oh man... it was shitsville after that.
Things have been going well with my shirt the last few months... We've gone to the gym together... he holds sweat and doesn't shrink when washed... maintains color... we go get food, and he avoids getting it spilled on him...
Today, it was something far worse...
I was in the parking lot today... walking to my car after a decent tri/bi workout. I was pretty happy with myself (as usual) and I accidently walked too close to a really dirty van and rubbed up against it... my shirt... was full of black-city soot... which would no doubt take many washes to get out. So I'm thinking... was this really an accident?
Much to the dismay of the two people who were sitting in the van... I started in on my shirt...
"What the fuck do you think you were doing walking into that fucking filthy van like THAT!"
--- people in van are confused at this point ---
"YOU think you can control me? You think you can just throw yourself into any dirt, and I'm going to keep you clean?? DO you ever fucking think about HOW I FEEL!!!" " YOU SON OF A FUCKING BITCH... That Van is your LAST STRAW... now i have to do wash tonight!"
-- guy in the van rolling up window
"Oh SURE blame them... blame the people for not washing their VAN... you think you can just get off by having me beat the fuck out of THEM!?! You are not getting off THAT easy"
Then I started in on the insults... after taking my shirt off... and pinning it on the back wiper of my CR-V. I started in on 15 minutes of public humiliation... I even asked passer-bys to hurl insults... although, many... didn't have the intestinal fortitude to be as ruthless as I was... the best I could get was to pay a homeless man 25 cents to call the shirt a "fucking muther fucker" -- I'll take what I can get...
My shirt is soaking... and probably sulking... but I do know one thing though... shirts... they come they go... Saturday through Sunday Monday... Monday through Sunday yo....
C-ditty
Things have been going well with my shirt the last few months... We've gone to the gym together... he holds sweat and doesn't shrink when washed... maintains color... we go get food, and he avoids getting it spilled on him...
Today, it was something far worse...
I was in the parking lot today... walking to my car after a decent tri/bi workout. I was pretty happy with myself (as usual) and I accidently walked too close to a really dirty van and rubbed up against it... my shirt... was full of black-city soot... which would no doubt take many washes to get out. So I'm thinking... was this really an accident?
Much to the dismay of the two people who were sitting in the van... I started in on my shirt...
"What the fuck do you think you were doing walking into that fucking filthy van like THAT!"
--- people in van are confused at this point ---
"YOU think you can control me? You think you can just throw yourself into any dirt, and I'm going to keep you clean?? DO you ever fucking think about HOW I FEEL!!!" " YOU SON OF A FUCKING BITCH... That Van is your LAST STRAW... now i have to do wash tonight!"
-- guy in the van rolling up window
"Oh SURE blame them... blame the people for not washing their VAN... you think you can just get off by having me beat the fuck out of THEM!?! You are not getting off THAT easy"
Then I started in on the insults... after taking my shirt off... and pinning it on the back wiper of my CR-V. I started in on 15 minutes of public humiliation... I even asked passer-bys to hurl insults... although, many... didn't have the intestinal fortitude to be as ruthless as I was... the best I could get was to pay a homeless man 25 cents to call the shirt a "fucking muther fucker" -- I'll take what I can get...
My shirt is soaking... and probably sulking... but I do know one thing though... shirts... they come they go... Saturday through Sunday Monday... Monday through Sunday yo....
C-ditty