A couple weeks ago, I did something I thought I would never do. Never. Not now. Not ever. It’s all rather shocking. I’m shocked.
I now own this shirt.
That’s right. I have farmed out my upper body as an advertisement for a political candidate. I paid money to provide advertising, on my person, for Ron Paul. I’m still a bit shocked.
It now sits, freshly washed and folded, on the top of my stack of white t-shirts. I haven’t worn it yet, but that day is coming.