I saw this bathroom of a coffee shop in Chicago. There are a lot of things I look for in a bathroom. At the same time, I can think of plenty of instances where a room full of mirrors might be handy (trying on clothes and taunting James Bond come to mind). I’ve never imagined those two worlds colliding.

What do you think possessed the owner to fill a bathroom in a coffee shop with mirrors? A interior decor ploy to give the impression of more space? A way for customers to analyze their performance? I’m just thankful none of them were carnival fun house mirrors.

When collecting up some clothes from the dry cleaner, I laughed out loud when I read what I was picking up. I’ll leave it you to imagine what the garment looked like.

Oh come on now, we all know that humankind already does a pretty good job of hitting nature in its weak spots. Do we really need to label them and make it easier to hit nature where it hurts?

Seems like the equivalent of making pants with a target on the crotch!

I don’t know how many times I have worn this shirt, but it is probably on the order of thirty or so.

Pretty sure that every single time I wear it, or nearly so, I try to put something into the chest pocket.  Each time, I am disappointed to find that the label patch is sewn so that pocket barely opens.

Argh! How frustrating!  All the more so because I never am able to remember that the pocket does not open before trying to put something in it.

The whole concept between the smack-talk shirts produced by the Nike’s and And1′s of the world seem to be missing something.

If a person is really so tough, would they leave it to their shirt to do the smack talk?

Oh, the terror and frustration of the ironing-proof crease that develops along the button-holes of certain shirts.

Imagine that you are a brilliant marketing copy writer. You are sitting at your desk one Friday morning when your irate boss walks in the door.

Uncharacteristically red-faced and clearly extremely angry, he tells you that the client from the mortuary which ordered this mailer had been chewing him out all morning.

Your boss wants to know exactly what you were thinking when adding this phrase to the envelope.

“Free Pre-Paid Cremation! Details Inside”

How would you reply to your boss?

Throw up your suggested reply in the comments by Friday, June 10th. You’ve got a week to get clever!

A free chickenmonkeydog t-shirt will be shipped to whoever submits the editors’ favorite reply!

No, no, nothing like that. Just trying to purchase some gloves that fit.

On a recent trip to my local hardware store, I was looking to pick up a new pair of work gloves to help me tackle the spring yard work. Glancing down at my hand, I wondered ‘What size of glove should I try on first?’ I went with medium. Too small. Hmm … ok, onto large. Still too small. Really? Ok, onto extra large. Extra large?!? They fit!

So, how does one measure a hand? Bottom of the palm to the top of the middle finger? From an extended thumb to an extended pinky? Does finger meatiness play into it at all?

I am still reeling from having to purchase extra large sized gloves.

As I dressed today I realized that the span of years covered by the garments still in my regular rotation is at least five to ten years wide.

Between the clothes I bought last month and the oldest piece of clothing that I still regularly wear there must be at least five years. If you count the clothes that I only occasionally wear, it is easily ten years.

That seems like quite a spread in age for the clothes I wear, but I bet some folks have me beat by a long shot.

When you buy clothes, do you feel like you can predict which ones you’ll have for a long time and while ones are ‘short-termers’? I suppose to some extent educated guesses are possible, based on our prior experience, but I bet every one of us would find some surprises if they looked back and thought about how old some of their garments are.

In my case, team jerseys tend to stay with me for a long time because the material and color of the garment tends to be durable.

What’s the oldest piece of clothing you own that you still wear?

It happens.

And if I’d lost my winter glove out and about, I’d actually be somewhat proud to be a contributor to this great tradition.

However, that is not what happened to me and my glove.

Nope.

Last spring I packed my pair of gloves up nice and securely, to sit and wait for fall to end.  Then, when I went to retrieve them for the winter months of 2010, lo and behold, there was only one glove where last there were two.

I blame the winter glove gremlins, ruthlessly rooting through basements and closets and boxes and bags to surreptitiously separate two gloves that were meant to be together.

It’s shameful.