The T-shirt

Those who read my recent rant on yard sales will know that I generally sacrifice my own well-being for the sake of my family. I rarely spend money on myself. During our yard sale on Saturday, I became aware that I have nothing worth a darn of my own that anyone would want to purchase. I've also noticed lately that all of my T-shirts are stained or ripped. I have lots of nice clothing, but I rarely spend money on a new T-shirt. But I decided on Saturday that's how I'd spend part of our $145 in sales.

So, I woke on Sunday and checked my e-mail. I spotted an ad from a message board for the local Freecycle organization. It's sort of a group of individuals who swap things with other members in an effort to conserve and recycle. I've never received anything, and I've never given anyone anything. But someone had 2X T-shirts available. I checked the address, and it was on our way to a Sunday cookout and birthday party. So I fired off an e-mail saying that I'd be interested in some free T-shirts.

I picked them up about three hours later. They were in what I can best describe as the largest Ziploc bag I've ever seen. There was a note that said I shouldn't ring the door bell because a baby was sleeping and a disabled kid would be upset. So I picked up the bag and tossed it into the trunk.

Then we went to our party. The kids were the first to finish with their meals, and they were itching to get into the pool. So I went to the car to grab one of the T-shirts. They looked to be in good condition. One had some proclamation about racing grandpas or some such thing. A few others featured a single word. They could have been anything from a gang insignia to the name of a band or popular clothing line. But they weren't the right color for swimming. Then I spotted the perfect shirt, a neatly folded gray shirt that didn't look worn at all.

I paused as I thought about how this shirt once belonged to someone else, that it had been on him. It wasn't a fun feeling, but I said to hell with it. I unfolded it. It said something. I read it. Then I put it on, folded my arms across my chest, tried to contain my laughter and walked to the patio, where everyone else was still eating.

I gathered their full attention and told the same story you've just read. Then I removed my arms to show them my new shirt, which featured this phrase: Danger Giant Penis.

 

I can think of some people who could never wear that shirt.

 

That's a helluva story ... I've scored some pretty sweet snags off freecycle but I don't think I would ever venture into the clothing thing.

Now about that giant penis ...

 

Been there. Done that.

 

The giant penis?

 

Glad you liked my shirts stallion.

 

Detachable Penis?

 

Jeez, what a rookie mistake on my part. Cannot believe I teed that one up like that ...

Now, I'm hearing the voice of the Lost in Space robot ... "Danger, Giant Penis"

 

The rest of my life will be spent plotting. Where will I wear this shirt next? I'm thinking of wearing it for my walks. Maybe on a hike through this wilderness area I like. I can't imagine the reaction I'd receive from someone who discovers another human being in a land where there are but a half dozen people for miles. But it could make a great Penthouse letter.

 

Dear Penthouse,
I was walking in the woods one day, wearing my 'Danger: Giant Penis' T-shirt, when I came across three nuns picnicking ...

 

best one I saw recently was a silhoutte of a man pointing at a tree, with the caption "That's shady"

I own a "Oops, I crapped my pants" t-shirt of SNL fame... mostly because my brother snagged the last "Dick in a Box" shirt.

 

I've got a few t-shirts that never leave the house.

1. A Trojan condom shirt and hat picked up at a concert
2. Money for books, money for tuition, price of being the No. 1 party school - priceless
3. From an indie film: "AIN'T NOTHING LIKE BEING TOTALLY WASTED WITH LOADED FIREARMS!"