Perplexing

T-shirts with slogans have sprung up to agitate my Burt.

It seems to have originated with a recently acquired resentment of my gym.

I love my logoed gear! Burt told me a wild story about a woman (they always look just like me) who was wearing the shirt (he ran his fingers over the writing and pictographs).

She knew all about him and then something something. At first he liked her then she worried him.

I said I had asked the police to watch out for us, and they had said they had their eyes on her, and everything was under control.

This t-shirt morphed into other of my favorite wears. We now have a standing instruction to use only plain t-shirts, although I think stripes are still ok.

Don’t you hate it when their delusions interfere with your fashion choices!