Today it was one of those hot ones, a good time to bring out a thin t-shirt. My thin shirt of choice these days is this particular shirt from The Toads (or, if you're Disqwogzz, "The Toads (10)") Matt K. wears it better than I do, of course. One of the things that I like about it is the fact that it does not state the band name. This is a trend I can get behind. Not all band names lend themselves to such nonverbal communication styles, of course, but what if???
Wearing the shirt of a band that is defunct but not for so long is a little embarrassing, right, particularly if the band name wasn't something you want to explain to people? (c.f. my Chook Race shirt, see profile pic). But what if the new etiquette were to print the band name in some sort of ink that disappears after four years or so? Then you'd just have a shirt with a picture on it.
Of course there are cred points to be had for wearing shirts with the name of a long-defunct band that people actually remember and still care about, I guess, but my history has been to throw my hat in with the underdog, which means I have a lot of cred points that no one will ever know about because they see "TRASH" and don't automatically assume, "oh, that Alpaca Brothers spin-off project that put out 'On and On with Lou Reed.'" But what if it was just this picture, minus the "TRASH"? That would be all right.
It being one of those hot ones, of course I had the bright idea to ride my bike to Qwostqwo because I had forgotten brown rice and tofu previously. Plus Gwoogwoo Mapz was suggesting some sort of extra-squiggly bike path as Option #2 - wait, how did I not know about a mysterious bike path joining the I-205 bike path with the Clackamas Qwostqwo? It could be awesome or it could end up with me in the newspaper, but thankfully it was the former. Who knew.
