I own a lot of shirts. Many of them I don’t wear because they are too big on me. I used to be fatter and I also used to work as a rapper in my spare time. I own a 3XL shirt. It never fit me right, but there were only two sizes left, 3XL and a medium. I could fit into the medium now. Back then I thought the chances of me ever being small enough for that were fat. I think that’s a pun I just made, sort of.

My shirts are organized by color. It’s not hard, 92% of them are black. I did this about 5 years ago when I was bored and now every time I move I maintain the same organization skills. I’ve gotten new shirts since and given some away to charity. I’m a good person. I give to charity. I don’t like people so I dumped it off in one of those charity dumpsters. Chances are, it was a regular dumpster and now my old clothes are killing mother earth. That doesn’t bother me. Mother earth is a bitch. Examples: Hurricanes, tornadoes, volcanoes, tsunamis, earthquakes, floods, severe heat, severe cold, overly abundant rainforests in the way of the future sites of shopping malls, etc.

I guess my choice of shirts has gotten better over the years. People never seemed to comment on them. When I was young it was always sports related shirts. That’s what us jocks do. We wear shirts of the teams that are looking to recruit us. When I got a bit older I had shirts that were of favorite television shows of mine. Sometimes people would look at my shirts and think they were silly and then never talk to me ever again. I wore those shirts a lot.

Now my shirts mostly make up of bands that I like. They not only can represent an obscure opinion of mine while advertising anti-government or anti-religion, they also fit me well and at times can trick people into thinking I have shoulders. My most popular shirts, my Iron Maiden ones.

I’m not that into Iron Maiden as most people who are into them seem to be. They’re hardcores. They think that if it ain’t metal, it’s shit. I don’t even know anyone in the band. That’s kind of pathetic considering how I own two shirts of them. They have very Swedish names, I think. I know they’re English, most likely. Really I should do some research on this but my brain is already filled with so much garbage. Do I need to really know the name of the idiot drummer to enjoy their art? No. That’s like knowing the name of the guy that mixes Britney Spears’ music to make her sound human. It’s unnecessary and time is better spent rocking out.

Overall I only own one Iron Maiden shirt, which when worn properly, makes me look strong. My other Iron Maiden clothing is a hoodie. The hoodie is too big and whenever I see myself in the mirror wearing it I get the feeling that everyone things that I have a stomach on my lower back. A big stomach too. I try not to think about it that much because a guy that made me a sandwich at Wawa complimented me on it. He said “Nice shirt!” and I smiled at lifted my sandwich to him agreeing. Another guy, at a different Wawa, who was filling my gas tank, saw me wearing my Iron Maiden t-shirt and tried talking to me about the lead singer. I agreed with everything he said because I couldn’t tell you the difference between the lead singer and the guy who parks their bus. One other time with that same t-shirt, a nerdy black kid asked me what I thought of their new album. I must have missed the episode of Family Matters where Erkel becomes a metalhead. This Obama clone new more about a band that I love than I did. I embarrassed myself by saying “I don’t know what their new album is” instead of just agreeing. Here’s a tip for you. If you don’t know or don’t give a shit, agree. Very few people are actually trying to fool you. Your best bet is always to just agree with whatever it is they are saying.

More people than that have complimented me on my Iron Maiden clothing. My one neighbor said “Cool shirt!” and I wasn’t sure he was talking to me. A month later I was wearing my Social Distortion shirt and he yelled again from his balcony “Cool shirt!” I guess that’s his “in” with a friendship. We’ve talked two times since. Once was about how I saw that he had a Canadian flag hanging inside his home and he’s not Canadian. Go figure. The second was when he thought I knocked on his door and he came outside. I had to explain to him at 12:30 at night that it was the maintenance man going inside the people above me to shut off their air conditioning because it was leaking down my wall. He nodded and went back inside to look like comedian Judah Friedlander. Sometimes he has a black guy over. Could it be Tracy Morgan?

But I love my shirts. All of them. They help keep my shame inside. If there is one thing that I am good at, it’s getting people to notice my shirts and have something to say about it. I never wear a shirt without a design. It makes me feel like everyone is judging the oval, circle, and triangular shapes that my body can form into when not perfecting my posture. A design can distract someone and even tell a stranger a little bit about yourself. I love that. Someone will know immediately if we have something in common. Nobody would ever compliment you on wearing a plain orange shirt. So don’t do it. Put on some swag with a cool design that will beg a few questions from others. What song did that band do? What city does that team play in? Is that girl old enough to have one of those in her mouth?

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