No matter how deep my quest for the perfect Navy Blue Striped Shirt, I will never find one that will fit all of those lovely expectations I carefully arranged in my dim-witted mind. Ever since I set my eyes on a casual blue binder a fortnight ago, I can not let go of all those sailors that have overrun my mind. My head has been deep in sailor hats, hunky sailors (along with the likes of Popeye), the perfect Navy Blue Striped Shirt, and um high wasted shorts. Of course, I, bearing the luck of a fractured horseshoe, own none of the listed. My poor, poor soul is left to bear with millions of google pictures that have nothing to do with sailors whatsoever but with promiscous halloween outfits. With a hand clasped tight on the sailor dream, I will persevere in finding that lucky shirt. On a brighter note, I have found from the depth of my room a sort of navy blue-ish fabric, among with others that I had unjustly neglected and hid from natural light. As soon as I learn that the sound that my sewing maching creates is completely normal and will not, under any circumstances, come alive and eat my phalenges, I will get to the real work, not just fantasize about some unattainable striped shirt.
The rather crappy designs were drawn by yours truly. I am amazed at the bad quality I gave it. Tsk Tsk. [It might be hard to see, so kind of tilt the monitor screen turn off all the neighborhood lights and find a microscope.]
The rather crappy designs were drawn by yours truly. I am amazed at the bad quality I gave it. Tsk Tsk. [It might be hard to see, so kind of tilt the monitor screen turn off all the neighborhood lights and find a microscope.]
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