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And so I must bid you "adieu."


maxwellissmart
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My favorite pair of shorts finally gave up the ghost after nearly 12 years of loyal wear the other day when the ass ripped out in the washing machine.

 

Sigh. I can still remember where and when my ex bought them (which I promptly stole from him in the divorce because he was too fat to wear them anyway).

 

I was just making fun of a regular client the other day who put on some undies after our strenuous, perfect and complete lovemaking, and they basically were shredded and holey like torn tissue paper, with his junk a-hangin' out. It also reminds me of the client I traveled to see one time who picked me up in a Jag (and I thought: "oh, this is good," and when he got out to greet me he was wearing a torn up, stained T-shirt with holes in the sides and a missing sleeve and I thought: "oh, this is bad.")

 

So Dear Shorts, I have to throw you away, I guess—but I don't want to.

 

It's too bad that we're so shallow as a society that we can't wear ass-less things to the mall. Oh well.

 

Do you have a favorite article of clothing that you just can't get rid of?

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LOL...funny story Max. I have a jean jacket (remember those) that I bought in Bangkok, and on it I had embroidered the logo for the 'Hard Rock Cafe'...This was at least 15 years ago. I loved that jacket. I not only can't throw it away, I never wore it because, now listen to this insane logic, I didn't want it to wear out. It just sit there in the back of the closet.

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Some time ago an old friend unearthed and shared with me a group photo from a conference we'd attended more than a decade prior. The odd thing was that when he handed me the photo I was wearing the same shirt as in the photo!

 

That shirt was consigned to Goodwill long ago because I outgrew it horizontally but I hope it still serves someone well.

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I would have regarded the stained t-shirt with holes in it and a missing sleeve as very sexy! If the guy drove a Jag, he obviously wasn't too poor to buy underwear. I guess it all depends how you look at it. Eroticism is in the eye of the beholder.

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I would have regarded the stained t-shirt with holes in it and a missing sleeve as very sexy! If the guy drove a Jag, he obviously wasn't too poor to buy underwear. I guess it all depends how you look at it. Eroticism is in the eye of the beholder.

 

Trust me on this one.

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First, Max, ler me say that I am relieved that you're not bidding adieu to the Board, as I first thought when I saw the headline.

 

As for old articles fo clothing...i have a lightweight sweatshirt (with a picture of one fish swimming against the rest of the school) that i bought in Seattle in the 80's. In the cooler months, I tended to put it on almost everyday after I came home from work, etc. it has some indelible stains and the cuffs are separating from the sleeves, but it seems to be my equivalent of Linus's blanket. :)

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Don't throw the shorts out. Keep them for a special evening. Don't wear underwear and surprise a special someone with a REAL "quickie"

 

I have a pair of black underwear with a rip in the crotch that I wore the first time I was with a very special working guy and save for our encounters only.

 

Boston Bill

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I am a T-shirt junkie and have been all of my adult life. I started collecting them in the mid 60’s and thus have dozens. I have T-shirts commemorating visits, to L.A., of preforming arts groups from around the world. I have T-shirts commemorating my visits to many places in the U.S. and around the world. I have T-shirts from hole-in-wall barbecue restaurants all over the hill towns of Texas. In fact I have so many T-shirts that folded they take up two large dresser drawers. I usually wear two T-shirts daily. I wear one to the gym in the morning and another one after shaving and showering at home. As they began to look ratty I sigh deeply and move them to my rows of gym T-shirts. I am so reluctant to part with them that I only do so when they are virtually in pieces. My T-shirts bring back so many wonderful memories that they are really a history of my life and who the hell wants to throw away a part of ones life – certainly not me.

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Epigonos, I think we must be twins that were separated at birth. I too have a t-shirt collection from places I've visited, events I've attended. some that were just given to me, and others that just are because. I have to force myself to clean the drawers from time to time. It's always a trauma. Whenever I wear them I'm transported back in time to wherever or however I got them. Good memories.

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And I am yet another with a collection of T-shirts, many of which no longer fit me (I tended to buy them pretty tight when I was younger), but which I can't bring myself to throw away, because they are the only souvenirs I have of places that I will probably never return to (e.g., the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, Kovalam in India, Banff National Park, Tasmania, etc.,). I also can't bring myself to chuck the wornout denim vest that a cute kid accidently left behind in my bedroom, in 1965. And then there is the classic wool shirt I bought at an Army/Navy store in Philly, that disappeared in urban renewal decades ago; it was so sexy that I wore it often in my bar-going days, and although the elbows are shot and I don't wear it, I can't throw it in the trash. Finally, there are the two sweaters that I bought to take with me for my freshman year of college, because since they do still fit me, I wear them occasionally; besides, I paid $10 apiece for them out of money I earned working at my first paying job that summer.

 

The one thing I did finally throw away a couple of years ago was the moth-eaten cashmere sweater I inherited in 1978 from my father, who had bought it just before the market crashed in 1929. We are a frugal family.

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My favorite pair of shorts finally gave up the ghost after nearly 12 years of loyal wear the other day when the ass ripped out in the washing machine...

So Dear Shorts, I have to throw you away, I guess—but I don't want to. ...

 

If you have the drawer space, hold on to them. You never know when a client has an ass-less shorts fetish.

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When I was 5, my parent took me to Walt Disney World where I wanted, cried for, and finally recieved a big boy mickey shirt that was practically a floor length caftan at the time. Fortunately, I grew into it and beyond. Still have it, although I had to stop wearing it after 40+ years, and it remains soft as lambswool, filled with holes, and many great memories.

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