Day 286

You know Mr. T - that bloke off the Snickers TV adverts who's always crashing into things with his massive tank and then threatening people with confectionery? Well here he is again, only this time he's standing in front of an oversized '77' for some reason, written in a (very faded) red, disheveled typeface, poising his (very faded) muscular arms menacingly and looking on disapprovingly. He's also cropped at the torso to make way for the word 'Suckah' (sic) which is presumably aimed at you, the viewer, and there's nothing you can do about it, because Mr. T is a hard case.

I would say that this T-shirt stands well to prolong the career of Laurence Tureaud, but chances are that he and his management have no knowledge of its existence, being as it is a cult reference and nothing more. The design appears to have been thrown together in under ten minutes in a bid to turn a quick buck, trading in on the ironic placement of the outlandish character, and in that respect, it has succeeded. My brother bought this T-shirt long ago (hence all the fading), presumably whilst heavily under the influence of alcohol or goading from his school chums. He has since come to his senses and banished the tee from his wardrobe, but rather than dump it into one of the Earth's volcanic crevices where it belongs, he has dumped it in my THREEHUNDREDANDSIXTEEFIVE T-shirt challenge pile instead.

Obviously I have welcomed the garment from the point of view that it has smashed down another vital day from the challenge calendar, but it's also no coincidence that I've chosen to wear it on this miserably wet Sunday whilst I'm locked away inside my home, not getting the life beaten out of me by churlish teenagers in the highstreet.

Please do pity the fool who wears this T-shirt.