Aww Horseshit!

You don’t know man, you don’t know. They are in my closet mocking me. My shirts. There mine. I am not theirs. But they hang pressed or winkled waiting for me. They know that I need them I can leave the house without them. Even if I was as buff as Swayne I could not step into the outside world without a shirt. Cottony motherfuckers.