What could be worse? I ask you again. What could be worse? You buy a delicious new plain white shirt at the expense of £38 because you know, as far as plain white shirts go, this plain white shirt is the tits. You meticulously hang it up on the door the night before wearing it with the intention of quickly ironing out the few creases it has in the morning just so it looks as crisp as a dewy spring morning. You begin to iron, gliding it delicately across the back. You notice the steam button. Yes, you think. Yes I want the ultimate iron experience for the ultimate crisp plain white shirt experience. You press the deceitful button and you again glide the iron across the length of the back of the shirt, but as you do you notice 3 thick brown streaks like the claw marks of Satan have etched themselves across the entire back of the shirt. You frantically try rubbing them off. They dont budge. The iron just sits there staring at you so smugly like, yes, I just ruined your expensive new white shirt, hehe. Your outfit is ruined and your day traumatised. I ask you again. What could be worse?
Posted on: Sat, 24 Jan 2015 09:58:13 +0000
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