…It looks like body paint.
…You can see my heart beating in it. People can read my pulse from across the room.
…I look like the Dominican Incredible Hulk.
….I look like some kind of traveling stripper. Like I’m going to arrive at a bachelorette party, rip it open and say “Ladies, it’s time to give y’all THE BUSINESS! Who wants to examine these briefs?!”
There is a story behind me wearing this young-ass shirt. Trust me, I was not intentionally trying to make a corporate skintight fashion statement!
Last week I was swamped with work thanks to this conference. On Thursday night, I hung out with co-workers to celebrate the last day of one of the coolest folks in the office. As a result, drinking happened and things got wild. I ended up crashing with my co-worker Jacob, who is easily one of the wildest people I’ve met in a long time, and who has actually looked forward to being written about here on the blog. If you’re reading this, Jacob, congratulations motherf*cker, you made it!
Well, after getting two hours of sleep on Jacob’s couch next to a conference volunteer and a puggle, Jacob offered to let me borrow a shirt. I accepted, since my sweater from the day before now had dog hair on it. Plus, the shirt was very nice looking. Only problem is, all of Jacob’s shirts are tailored for JACOB. That’s why I looked I did for that last half-day of the conference. I just made jokes about the snug, form-fitting nature of the shirt, because it was still better than wearing the exact same outfit as the day before, especially since it had a bunch of dog hair on it and slightly smelled of alcohol. Once again, thank you Jacob for letting me borrow the shirt that I almost exploded out of like Lou Ferrigno.
Everybody else, feel free to make up your own “Leon’s dress shirt is so small” joke below.
*I also sincerely apologize in advance for y’all sorta-kinda being able to see the boxer-brief dick -and-ball print in the above photos. I can’t help it if I’m too much man for dress slacks, even when I’m off the soft. Blame Jesus and my parents for giving me these good genes. Or thank them. It’s your choice.Tweet