Keep my skillet good and greasy

5.5.2019

My T shirt has a "kick me" sign on it.

It's not written in English or any other language.  It's not really real.  But it is there.  And everything in the world sees it.  And kicks it.

It's a normal, red (called, "Bonfire Red" by its manufacturer), crew-neck T shirt.  It's 100% cotton, soft, and it fits and wears well.  You can't but notice a red T shirt, but other than that, it's nothing  special.

Except that I get shit all over it.

If I'm stirring chili, a blob will jump out and land on my red T.  If I'm mowing on corn at the movies, only pieces with lots of butter will land unnoticed on my red T.  If I'm pouring melted bacon fat into a ramekin, a drop will somehow get on my red T.  If I'm writing with a Sharpie, I will fumble and drop it tip-end on my red T.  If I'm drinking coffee in the car, I will hit a pothole and spill coffee on my red T.  The list goes on and on.  It's like there's a "kick me" sign on the T that I mentioned early.  Except it's spills and shit, not kicks.


There's nothing out of the normal with spilling stuff or getting shit on myself.  It's just that it ONLY HAPPENS when I wear that red T shirt.  I kid you not.  I'm as clean as a whistle - as long as I'm not wearing that T shirt.



Tonight - Homestead.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!