I hate high necked t-shirts. I feel like I’m being strangled, or intentionally strangling myself, which I’m not even sure is possible. At least not to death. 

Years ago, during a t-shirt phase in my life, I got a STFU shirt, quite simply because it said it all without saying anything. The only problem was that the style was unisex, I suspect more man than woman as it had a cut flattering only to a plank of wood and it had a high neckline which as you now know, I hate. I spent more time yanking on the neck than I did enjoying the bold statement that often tip toed, ambled or charged rampantly through my head.

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