The T-Shirt Tag
My good bud Suze made me…I mean…asked me if I’d be so kind as to do this t-shirt meme thingy. The idea is to pick five t-shirts you own and write something about each, or something to that effect. I don’t do well with instructions, I just see “blah blah blah” and dive right in. Anyway, my response was, "ONLY FIVE?" because really, all my t-shirts are splendid and tell a story and I could go on for probably three weeks!
OK, I’m suddenly seeing the point of choosing five now.
I believe I’m supposed to tag some people to do similar, so I tag, you and you and oh yeah…you! Have at it. Seriously, all of you go do it, I want to see what crap you all have in your wardrobes then we’ll see who gets to be all high and mighty.
So here, with no further ado – The Guv’ner’s T-shirts
- Bobz Bunz – Best Bunz in Town
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, "Guv, I honestly am having a hard time seeing a cultured, educated, classy, upper class toff like yourself wearing something featuring such a crass slogan!" And you would be at least partially correct, my friends. I have never actually worn "Best Bunz In Town" in public. Not because I wouldn’t wear such a fine piece of high-class garb, so much as the fact the shirt is almost the exact same color as my skin, therefore wearing it in a public place might cause cars to crash into rivers or something, when drivers with short attention spans think I’m walking around topless sporting a tacky tattoo on my chest. It was an oversight on my part when I bought it.
In my defense, Bobz Bunz is from the fabulous Islamorada diner in the Florida Keys and I did fall heavily and truly in love with Bobz Bunz on my visit. His buns were huge, sticky and brimming with cream cheese, so given those filthy odds I defy you not to have bought his t-shirt. Plus, it reminds me of long hours of sunshine, ocean, palm trees, liquor and getting my ass evacuated by a hurricane the very day after I arrived. Thanks Rita, you punkass bitch. And the moral of this tee? Never go on vacation with The Guv’ner. She will get you either, a) arrested, b) killed, c) evacuated, or d) chased by an alligator. Of course if you like adventure, hell, gimme a call! - Small Stars
Austin’s Small Stars are one of my favourite bands, maybe my favourite. I know, I know, you’ve never heard of them. No one has. But what’s the point in having a favourite band that everyone knows? Hmmm? Then I couldn’t pull an "I am better than you plebs in my hipster superiority!" type of defense. I wouldn’t be a quarter as awesome as you all know I am, if I liked Bryan Adams or something, right?
Naturally, you should go check The Small Stars out immediately anyway because they rock to an almost epic proportion of fantasticness. Their song "Bombarderos Y Pistoleros" especially, makes my entire world rock out with its cock out. That song just lights my fire. And believe me. You will be lying there one night, just about to drop over that line into a deep, relaxing slumber when boom, the intro to "Bombarderos" will start pounding in your brain until sleep is futile and you have to get your ass out of bed and dance around the house in your underwear, playing your imaginary washboard. Yes, I said washboard. Do you wish to say something?
Sure, they’re a real band made up of fake characters but they write a mean, catchy song and so my friends, this is why I have the t-shirt. It’s a fairly small babydoll shirt so I can’t eat for about a week before I wear it or it gets a little tight and things get a touch obscene in the breastular region. Let’s just leave it at that... - Mello Yello
Mello Yello is the coolest soda on Earth. Except Barr’s Irn Bru. But that’s in a league of its own. Mello Yello is the best American soda on Earth, how about that? Not only does it boast a cunning use of pineapple, but it’s harder to find in NYC than a straight waiter. In fact, one of the Subway Sandwiches franchises, right here in downtown, by the World Trade Center is the only place in Manhattan I know who offers its wondrous fizzy nectar for sale. Before I discovered this, I used to actually head to Chuck E. Cheese in Brooklyn to find heaven. Now tell me that’s dedication! Or desperation. Whatever, who asked you? Oh wait, I did. Anyway, yeah, it’s basically a trade off. One cup of Mello Yello cost 99 cents and about two thirds of your sanity because you have to drink it surrounded by 80 shrieking six year olds. On the way out they give you a free gallon of the stuff and a medal for perseverance. At least on the days you’re not handcuffed and on your way to the slammer…
The shirt’s awesome but virtually unwearable. I mean look at the colour. I’m crazy but I’m not howling at the Moon, crazy! I’m a reddish haired pale chick, if I wore that shirt in public I’d get arrested for crimes against fashion. All it needs to complete the felony is some royal blue pants with suspenders and some big, red clown shoes. It's actually a junior's t-shirt but I'm not proud. Because, it’s Mello Yello people. I sleep in it, because it’s awesome. The shirt I mean, not the soda. That would be pervy. - Homosassa Springs
I got this t-shirt in Florida from the Wildlife Preservation park there of the same name. It’s a man’s t-shirt actually and way too large, so it’s pretty much sleep material. I have worn it on the odd occasion with some leggings to run a swift errand in the neighbourhood, when I’m 100% positive I won’t run into someone I know. In fact, the last time I wore it was on a warm summer’s day last year which just happened to be the same day as the Gay Pride parade which runs through my neighbourhood. I went out, ran an errand, bought a drink and sat down in the park near my apartment to enjoy the weather. The park was full of me on my own and 100 people draped in rainbow flags who’d been enjoying the parade. It wasn’t till I got up to leave and glimpsed my reflection in a store window, I realized my messenger bag strap cut across the logo, splitting it in two, so it looked like I was wearing a shirt that said "Homos" and "ass". Nice. Hey never say I’m not topical. - Let’s Play Global Thermonuclear War
C’mon people, this shirt is the bees knees. Am I wrong? Who doesn’t fill their pants at that line in "War Games" when Matthew Broderick realizes the computer isn’t playing a game? Plus it’s a real geeky t-shirt and I’m a real geek. Nerd. Dork. I know, you’re thinking "Really Guv? You hide it so well! We’d never have realized if you’d just kept your trap shut!"
Like the Small Stars shirt it is very fitted so it might as well say "HERE ARE MY BOOBS!" OK it’s not that bad. It’s short though. You have to be careful when you reach for stuff unless you want the world sticking things in your belly button. And really, who wants that? I mean I usually charge for that service.
Your turn!
