Gym fail

Ok, here’s the plan I had: to start showing you the shirts I wear to the gym in the morning. Nope, I’m not one of those people who wear the same shirt every time (because I sweat at the gym, which makes me want to get a fresh shirt each time, and so should you!). Ok, so this sounds a bit boring, but I usually try to wear something offensive, hoping my fellow gym goers will be offended (that’ll serve them right for hogging the seated row machine and forgetting to wipe down the sit-up bench when they’re done).

Anyway, I figured I’d just take a quick photo in the mirror with my phone. The only problem though, my phone is a piece of CRAP Samsung Soul – a phone sent up from the deepest level of hell to punish people for being stupid (after all, we bought this sad excuse for a phone, we must be dumb as a bag of hammers, right?). So, here’s what I came up with this morning:

Yeah, it’s sad. Sad. Looks like I used an underwater camera in a bowl of porridge. But fear not – I’m getting a new phone, hopefully today and hopefully it’ll have a better camera and I’ll give this idea a shot again.

Anyway, about this shirt. I found it at the bottom of the shirt drawer when I moved in with my (then) girlfriend (now wife) and I instantly swiped it, being a big fan of the Violent Femmes. That was ok, because she in turn had too stolen it, from a former boyfriend. What is it with girls and stealing clothes from their boyfriends? It’s like some sort of demented trophy hunting ritual, very spooky and weird. Not that I’m the one to talk, but still… At least I didn’t invent a whole clothing concept from my illegal activities (I’m talking about the so-called “boyfriend jeans” here).

So, this is a prime example of ugly 90’s merch, bought at the legendary Dalarocken festival the year before my first visit there, in ’91 or so. Me, I never got to see the Violent Femmes, ever, which makes me very sad. These days, this shirt is pretty worn out, and as you may be able to make out, badly twisted out of shape (yes, I’m facing the mirror, the print is totally off-center after a billion washes). I still love it though and I could feel envious glances in my direction as I was making an ass of myself in the pull-up machine. Maybe I should put it on eBay and make a fortune…

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