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Remember my "no bullshit on the blog" policy? If not, read T-shirt #231. I made the claim that I would not engage in bullshit on this blog. Only the unvarnished truth will appear here. Okay, that's bullshit. I use varnish, sometimes A LOT of varnish. But I am about to make a claim that people will think is bullshit, but it's not.
Honestly, I did not know the "true" meaning of this shirt and why the massage parlor is called "Happy Ending" when I bought this shirt. No lie. I can be quite naive. And I swear to you all, on the sanctity of my no bullshit policy, that I did not "get" the joke with this shirt until long after I bought it. I see some of you are nodding and musing "yeah, right." But it is a real and true thing.
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Given the flat thud an anecdote about my college days and a young Korean struggling with his L-letter and R-letter substitutions had with a small group not long ago, I am still learning that I play a part in perpetuating those racist stereotypes even when I have the best of intentions and feel I am coming from a place of love and respect.
Even before I realized the true joke of this shirt, it did not leave my closet. And once I caught on to the sex industry connection, the shirt definitely did not leave my closet.
But I am a fan of massage. I have been a semi-regular massage customer for close to 20 years now. I find a sixty minute, full body massage to be incredibly therapeutic. It's definitely part of my self-care. I strongly recommend it, though true certified professionals do not engage in the prostitution alluded to in this shirt. In fact, so ashamed am I for owning it that I almost did not share it because I do not want to offend anyone, especially massage therapists I know. And yet, I can use the shirt to reveal and denounce the stereotypes and to raise awareness of the damage racist stereotypes can cause to our culture.
Short post today. Grading Robot is chugging at maximum power and these warp engines need to be pushed to 129% yield.
So, I am going to admit A LOT of shame at owning this shirt, which I dug out of the back of my closet, and this shirt may certainly be bound for the massive purge of shirts that may take place in March because, after all, do I really need to own 365 t-shirts?
COUNTDOWN TO THE END OF THE YEAR: 129 shirts remaining.
- chris tower - 1311.12 - 8:25