Seems like it happens every holiday season: a family warmly invites man's best friend into their home to share in the spirit of the season and then some Scrooge wants to give them back to the pound and tell the kids that they ran away. My wife is that Scrooge.
Just the day after Jesus' birthday was Tough Tim's bachelor party in Atlantic City. A good time was had by all except for my white t-shirt which made it look as if I got a lapdance from Aunt Flo or was a shy German porn star due to the fact that I spilled Disco Fry gravy all over myself. This tragic event spawned true love.
As my friends ridiculed me with chants of 'Homeless man, homeless man' down the boardwalk, I walked into a cheapo gift shop to replace my shirt and fell in love with my 3 little canine darlings. The most beautiful shirt God or a Laotian in a sweatshop ever created was right in front of me and only ninety nine cents. I was so excited that I ran onto the boardwalk and changed my shirt, right motherfucking there...the cat calls were ear shattering. For the first time in my life I was truly happy; thanks to those 3 little doggies with the nonsensical message: "Beach Bums, Atlantic City."
I wore my special shirt to a New Year's Eve party and was the belle of the ball. Every chick wanted me, every guy wanted to be me. It was all to much for the missus. She hates the site of the dog shirt so much that she refuses to perform her wifely duties if I'm rocking it and looking cool. So I have to give it away. I gave 2 bags to Goodwill today, but I couldn't fathom seeing a real bum wearing the Beach Bums. This shirt needs a good, loving home with an owner and sig other that will truly understand it.