Imagine you are at a party. It is a fun party, replete with those whose company you enjoy. Somewhere along the line, you find yourself near the door and hear someone knocking. Being a socially conscientious human, you offer to let the person in on behalf of your gracious host, who stands halfway across the room. You open it with a smile - one that quickly falters when confronted with a middle-aged woman whom you've never met, standing there wearing a shirt that distinctly has your face, large as you please and in stencil form, right in the middle of it.
Now substitute any and all "you" and "your" with "me" and "mine," and then appreciate that this very thing happened to me the other night. Yes, I know. My face! On a shirt worn by a woman I've never seen before! So what did I do when I opened the door and saw this strange, unexpected occurrence? Did I talk to the woman, wring her for information, find out then and there the identity of the real culprits behind this prank? No, of course not! I let out a small, startled noise (some would say a "yell of fright") and fled across the room, burying my head in the couch. In short, my ostrich instinct kicked in and it became a matter of survival.
But how could this be? Well, as it turns out, she was Jamie's (the hosts) neighbor. Also as it turns out, the stenciled picture of my face was drawn by one Andrew Johnson, although even he is baffled as to how it made it's way into Jamie and his conspirators' hands, and how that consequently made it's way onto a shirt.
I tip my hat to the aforementioned conspirators. Clearly, I did not expect a shirt with my face on it. I don't think many people do expect their face to appear on shirts. In fact, I feel pretty comfortable assuming that anyone who expects pictures of his/her face on shirts whent hey go places might be in need of professional help. Or an official clothing line. Either one.
Now substitute any and all "you" and "your" with "me" and "mine," and then appreciate that this very thing happened to me the other night. Yes, I know. My face! On a shirt worn by a woman I've never seen before! So what did I do when I opened the door and saw this strange, unexpected occurrence? Did I talk to the woman, wring her for information, find out then and there the identity of the real culprits behind this prank? No, of course not! I let out a small, startled noise (some would say a "yell of fright") and fled across the room, burying my head in the couch. In short, my ostrich instinct kicked in and it became a matter of survival.
But how could this be? Well, as it turns out, she was Jamie's (the hosts) neighbor. Also as it turns out, the stenciled picture of my face was drawn by one Andrew Johnson, although even he is baffled as to how it made it's way into Jamie and his conspirators' hands, and how that consequently made it's way onto a shirt.
I tip my hat to the aforementioned conspirators. Clearly, I did not expect a shirt with my face on it. I don't think many people do expect their face to appear on shirts. In fact, I feel pretty comfortable assuming that anyone who expects pictures of his/her face on shirts whent hey go places might be in need of professional help. Or an official clothing line. Either one.
Edit - Here is the picture that so noteworthily decorated the t-shirt:
6 comments:
hahahaha that is awesome! wow.
PS: I'm glad you're blogging again!
So bizzare. Let me know, of course, when you track down the culprits...
BTW, you've been advertised. Check my blog, punk.
Slide-show!
clearly one of the weirdest things that could ever happen, ever.
love from leila
Sholeh - I am glad I am blogging again too!
Andrew - i KNOW, I can hardly think of anything stranger or bizzarer. Also, your advertising roxors soxors.
Gavin - Slideshow?!?!
Leila - Clearly. Clear. Ly.
When you said return, you meant return with a vengence. I had my doubts at first, with the less than 50 character website name, and the bold claims reminiscent of a boxing promoter. I no longer travel on the steed of uncertainty.
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