After crunching the numbers, I've determined that my interest in him automatically increases 29% if he has that patch of t-shirt showing. I wanna bury my nose in that little triangle and softly whisper Celine Dion lyrics to it. I wanna cook it a casual Italian dinner on a Tuesday night. Hell, I wanna pretend that I like Jim Jarmusch movies to impress it on our second date: THAT'S how bonkers I am about that little cotton patch. It's like if his neck/chest were wearing mascara and it's batting its eyelashes at me. I don't possess the skill set to resist that kind of charm!
See what I mean?
|The undershirt is so cute, right?|
|I am Jack's complete casual business look|
|Sure, Darlene's a ten-year-old girl, but she's rockin' it|
|It's not quite a triangle up top--it's more of a parabola shape--but I'll accept it|
|Boy Meets Undershirt|
|Not even close, James Hetfield|
|Eh, not really|
|Dude, not close. At all|
|Toss on an under tee, baby Gos. You're almost there!|
|I could do without the bad attitude, but we're gettin' better|
|I see it pokin' out! Uh, his t-shirt that is.|
|Oh yeah. DING DING DING! This is perfection.|