When the mice got into my drawer, they shredded holes in everything they found. I chucked it all out, unsorted, without a moment's thought for the riches I was discarding.
Now, my work shirts get hard use. they get tears, cuts, spark-burns, they get oil, paint, silicone and worse. So mice really are just another challenge.
I start out with good shirts. I've been known to buy bundles of unissued military surplus t-shirts, yes, they're khaki, sand, green, whatever, but they're a decent weight and last well.
Then, today, on TYWIKIWIDBI, I saw this.
If Jeffrey, at NYC, cares to get in touch with me, I think we can do some business. I guess I could manage about five per week.
P.S. My chosen hobby area is in what we might call off-road motor-sport. At the end in which I indulge it's a discipline undertaken at low, almost walking speed, an intellectual as much as a physical challenge, the object is to traverse a number of sectioned routes across rough terrain, without stopping or hitting any of the numbered penalty gates. Inevitably, every now and then theres a grinding crunch as a rock or a tree gets into the action, sometimes a rollover, and a few dents and scrapes are to be expected.
Out on the road, I see these glossy vehicles with suspension lifts, winches, jacks, expedition racks. It's obvious that they don't use any of it, they've not just returned from crossing Borneo.
So, in a spoof article for my club magazine, a few years back, I posited a new business. "Off-Road Vehicle Distressing".
I'd have booths where you could bring your new Range Rover, and my guys would lovingly scrape along the sides with broken bottles, slam it with rusty chains, for extra money, you could have us charge at it with an elephant or rhinoceros. We could fill it with baboons to rip the seats and shit on the carpets.
Oh yes. And combine that with Jeffrey's shirts, and you'll really look the real deal, rolling up at the country-club.
