You know, that below post just serves as an example of what I’m talking about…which is why I’m trying to make it slowly disappear. But, still, as mentioned, it’s not something I would change about myself, so I’ll leave it for now, if only in a less-distinct way.

In other news, after first seeing Fight Club back in ’99, I had to get Tyler’s wardrobe. I was all about the vintage leather jacket and cheezy Hawaiian shirt. I scoured second-hand stores, thrift stores, Salvation Army stores, etc, and always came up largely empty-handed.

Granted, I did end up with a few sufficiently horrid shirts that were just right for the blackjack tables in Vegas (baby, yeah!); but as far as the awesome jacket went, it was a rarity not easily found. Well, a few days ago, I rented Fight Club, and was motivated again to go on my search. I drove all over the Silicon Valley, angling my beater truck between the dichotomy-inducing Lexus SUV’s and BMW Z3’s in sundry low-rent (an oxymoron in this area) neighborhood parking lots, pushing aside blue-haired old ladies when they asked if they could help me, deftly fingering past failed dot-com logo shirts for the meatier vintage clothes, and…

This, normally, would be the point where the music would swell and I would reveal that my long quest had finally ended. Alas, this is real life, and although I’ll have a theme song-playing orchestra to follow me around someday, today I am without; and, therefore, I lack the the ability to pull off the Hollywood ending.

I did, however, find this shirt, and I think you’ll agree it’s rad (at least the nice blue-haired lady that rung it up for me thought so). It’s hard to tell, but you will be delighted to see upon closer inspection that it has not one, not two, but four pockets, as well as some pretty sharp pimp-striping. The full ensemble remains elusive, but I’m getting some success going my own way, too.

Oh, and it was $3.00