Where does my girlfriend Amy get off breaking up with me for “not having a personality” without even taking the time to read my 137 novelty t-shirts?

Look, I get it. Sometimes people don't click. Even if the physical relationship is rocking, which I bet it would have been had we gotten that far (can you return an unopened bottle of Bedroom Blaster supplements?). But no personality? That's crazy! I have personality out the wazoo! Out 137 wazoos, to be exact! Which she'd know if she'd stuck around to see more than three of my novelty t-shirts.

I should have seen from the start that she was flaky. Isn't it customary, when your date gives you something nice like flowers or candy or even better a MY HEART ONLY BEATS FOR MY AWESOME BOYFRIEND t-shirt, that you, at the very least, say “thank you” or eagerly pull him toward your bed rather than scrunch up your face and say “um, this is only our first date?”

Then, like two seconds later, she's complaining about the I'M WITH STUPID t-shirt I was wearing. An all-time classic! But, unlike some people, I'm willing to make an effort, so I unzipped the stuffed garment bag I keep in the trunk of my '03 Corolla, and chivalrously swapped it for my MORE COWBELL t-shirt. But still, it's like she doesn't even remember the fun we had at Chipotle when she was placing her order and said, “I want– - ” and I said, “More cowbell?” and she said, “No, extra salsa.” Then she looked at her phone and said, “I need– - ” and I said, “More cowbell?” and she said, “No, to call my grandmother.” Back and forth we went, her “I need”-ing and me dropping “more cowbell?” after “more cowbell?” and her all “no, to find a flight to see my grandmother” and “no, to be with my grandmother tomorrow when she has major surgery to remove a growth on her lung” and “no, to end this date.”

And what about that day I wore my ORGASM DONOR t-shirt and kept asking everyone in her family if they wanted to find out if they were a match? They all fought to keep a straight face, but I just know me and my shirt were cheering people up that dreary, depressing afternoon, even though I wasn't required - or even asked - to be there, so yes, Amy, it was appropriate to wear it to your grandmother's funeral.

Per. Son. Ality.

My god, there's two full drawers of KEEP CALM AND… shirts she never saw! She has no idea I can KEEP CALM AND TOKE ON. I could throw on that shirt right now, light up some herb, and Facetime her. That would definitely get us back together.

But is that something I even want anymore? Frankly, her lame reaction to those first shirts means I probably dodged a bullet. I bet she wouldn't even get my Groot I'VE GOT WOOD t-shirt or any of my seventeen other Marvel t-shirts. She'd want to name our kids Tyler or Connor instead of Tonystark Hulkthor Jr. (yes, currently I'm stuck with “Bob Miller,” but the paperwork has been submitted. Again).

Amy had her chance. There are plenty of other girls who would definitely dig my torso-borne personality. Oh - I bet I could hook up with one of the babes who model these t-shirts online! A babe who not only appreciates but promotes a personality expressed through Pakistani-produced, 50/50 cotton-blend witticisms. So I'm not worried. One day I'll find the right girl, maybe even on Thursday next week when she reads that I'M A HAPPY-GO-LUCKY RAY OF FUCKING SUNSHINE™️.

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