Shoots. I have a drawer-plus of about 50 (I counted) Tshirts, all of which are garage worthy. First thing I do when I get home is get into my grubbies, my mom was always getting on my and my three brothers to get out of the house, etc.
The problem is not so much that I get my nice stuff grubby, the Tshirts have long since lost her favor. The problem is that I keep putting on the same old reeking several that live at the top of the pile. Too, but that I'm always in my grubbies, sometimes don't change when we have to go somewhere. She has asked me on occasion to turn my shirt inside out...
And let's not get started on footwear. I grew up barefoot though I couldn't attend high school that way, I went through years at U of Hawaii on my ten-speed and barefoot. There was, though, one other guy in Engineering that did the same. Gotta soak up those minerals, to stay healthy. So now I'm six-six and 265, so it must have worked, in conjunction with the wifey being an excellent cook and having five-star capabilities in other areas. Now back to work, over and out.
