Princess MoMo

I can’t seem to catch a break on the shirts the specimens wear during my in-person encounters with them.  I’ve written about this issue at least three times on this blog (the worst shirt, the most homo shirt, the stupid shirt).  And there were plenty of other detestable shirts in between.  Last night, I went out with the homo shirt specimen again.  Frankly, this particular specimen shouldn’t wear shirts at all.  Unfortunately, societal norms dictate otherwise.  

Prior to my arrival at his place, I asked him if he planned on wearing a super gay button down shirt. He said, “Yes, I’m going to wear my gayest one.” I replied, “Didn’t you wear that one last time?” He responded, “No, I have way more flaming ones.”  After my standard struggle with directions, I made it to his abode.  I was greeted by sexy specimen garbed in a horrific shirt (pictured below).  I immediately lodged a complaint.   I don’t care if the flannel/Farmer Joe/Paul Bunyan shirt look is “in style.”  It is not flattering on any male and it’s straight-up ugly.  Just because such garments are sold in abundance at stores, doesn’t mean they’re hot.  They are not.  STOP WEARING THESE HIDEOUS SHIRTS (unless you are going to till a field)!!! PLEASE!!!!!!! 

He told me I have no taste in men’s shirts.  He then asked if I wanted to pick out a different one for him to wear.  I readily obliged.  We went into his closet, which was organized in a stellar way, and I selected a shirt.  He rejected my selection.  I chose another one. He rejected it again.  I chose another. He rejected.  He again said that I have bad taste in men’s shirts.  I noted that these were shirts that he purchased.  He highlighted that my selections were all of the striped variety.  It is true, I am partial to striped men’s shirts – vertical stripes to be precise, not Where’s Waldo horizontal style.  He went on to say that stripes aren’t in fashion anymore and that he wouldn’t wear one.  So, I chose a solid colored shirt.  He rejected that one too saying that it is too expensive to wear out to Hoboken.  FINALLY, we were able to reach a compromise (pictured below).

Obviously, the compromise shirt wasn’t my first choice, but it was so much better than the dreadful one he was going to wear.  All’s well that ends well?