The other night I ripped my shirt in half. While I was wearing it. This was not an accident.
Legendary wrestler Hulk Hogan was famous for this. Nothing more manly or intimidating than flexing your muscles and ripping your shirt right down the middle.
Funny story. It’s neither manly nor intimidating doing this while getting drunk all alone in your bedroom. How could I help myself? I was wearing an old t-shirt with the collar so worn; it was frayed just enough that a tear was there for the pickings. Started drinking some whiskey (read: white wine), something exciting happens in the Bruins game (read: Girl Code), one thing leads to another and I’m a full blown Hulkamaniac (read: retard).
It’s an exciting moment. Tear that bitch right down the middle with your own bare hands. Once in high school I remember trying this, but it took 5 other guys to accomplish the feat. Very humbling. But this was different, it really was exciting. Much more exciting than the following couple hours that could be best described as sitting in a recliner shitfaced with just t-shirt sleeves and your man titties hanging out. This visual is haunting, I know. But you’re just reading it. I experienced it first-hand. I wanted to go to the gym immediately. I was disgusted with my body. ( I also wanted to get stronger so I could rip more fucking shirts! )
I did lose a perfectly good t-shirt to this experience, and maybe a little dignity (doubtful), but I would still have to say it’s worth it. Don’t you judge me. You’re the one still thinking about my tits.