I get t-shirt envy really badly when I see James Knight, he's always neat as a pin in a Barbour and dress shirt, and then he does a load of drugs and drinks eight beers and the Barbour and shirt come off and he's always got the sickest t-shirt on. Here is a picture of him and me together earlier this year, that's me in a wack bootleg shirt of an entry-level hardcore band, and that's him in a nice crisp official shirt of a black metal band you really have to try hard to find records of. It doesn't help that I look odd and clean-shaven like a baby but you get my point. He buys them online and I don't really see him wear the same ones twice. Also, the other day I was at his flat and I saw in his room and they were all folded really fucking neatly which made me feel worse about the whole t-shirt situation as mine are all piled together in a bundle off the drying rack. It's as if he has his life in better order than mine or something, even though he is a drug hoovering alcoholic with a deathwish and I live like a priest. Anyway, I shall endevour to follow these instructions from now on:
No comments:
Post a Comment