Uh, Blendman, a word?

Yes, it’s about that comment you made by the Keurig. Yes, that Keuirg. You see, I appreciate that you like my shirt. Why, yes, it is Earthworm Jim, the Super Nintendo game character turned short-lived Saturday morning cartoon.

You see, Blendman, I wear these shirts to express myself and make myself stand out from the crowd. I don’t wear them to have them commented on.

I’m not good at speech, Blendman. The words, I don’t find them. I frequently find myself in a sea of people more equipped in the brains to say things that make me think That There Is A Presidential Nominee or I Wish I Talked That Way. I’m not one of those people, Blendman.

I search the Internet late at night, sipping a bourbon, and sipping a coconut, and thinking to myself What could I do to make myself better known to the Presidential Candidates of Funnytown With Whom I Am Employed?

So I buy these shirts, Blendman. This one was made by a user named CaptainOverpants in Spokane and hosted on a website called GagBubble. I search deep, deep in the crevices of unlicensed merchandise so that I might wear these shirts at work and have my best friends in my whole life observe it and truly know me.

But don’t comment on them, or ask where I got them, or what does it mean, or is that a clif bar shirt. Did you see the way Ariel looked at my shirt? She deftly left the break room the moment I entered because my countenance was so individualistic that to acknowledge it further would drive her to madness and lead her to smash her daughter’s macaroni art in unbridled joy.

My art is a statement, and I need not comment further on it.

Then a bird killed us both.