I don’t have a younger sister I have to share clothes with.
Thankfully, other men.
Because those hunks never survived the movie.
I recently got a one shoulder top that I’m wearing at home, does that count?
I just realized that the examples in the meme leave out an important part of the ensemble: calf-high white tube socks with multicolor bands at the top.
If you’re gonna rock it, rock it all the way.
I don’t have those, so that. That stops me from doing that.
We grew up watching those dudes get butchered in increasingly-grotesque ways by a diverse conglomeration of psychotic murderers and animals, both natural and supernatural.
I’m good with my plain black t-shirt that’s long enough to serve as a dress because I’m fat and need uberlength shirts to make it over the curvature of my Moo Deng pregnancy and still have enough fabric left over to not leave me looking like I’m wearing a cummerbund made from pale hairy human skin.
Fat guy dress > being split vertically, starting at the willy, by an industrial saw because I unknowingly spent a summer afternoon in a swimming hole that once hosted a cruel gang of teenagers who pretended to befriend a lonely man with a deformity and subsequently caused him to drown in it by shoving him off the rocks into the water even though they knew he couldn’t swim.
Wow, there’s a lot to unpack there. Cheers mate.
No way, this is like wearing the red shirt in Star Trek.
The shape of my body.
High fructose corn syrup
Understanding dryer settings.
We live in a society.
My wife.
Your wife is the opposite of mine. She’s always trying to get me to wear tighter, skimpier clothing. I’m a product of the 90s; I like my oversized t-shirts and baggy jeans, okay?
She’s fine with tighter shirts, but those hot-pants? Nah, she hates them and threatens to cut them into pieces when I talk about buying a pair, even though they look so comfortable.
Sheer sex appeal
Aside from my slab o’flab making people wish my top had not been cropped, those daddy dukes look like junk-crunchers.
That’s the point!