Space Is The Place

This is a closeup of the world's thinnest t-shirt. Seriously, it could function as cheesecloth, without a hitch. Because of the ancient Egyptian theme, it's also my most favorite t-shirt. You see, I love ancient Egypt.
I got this shirt about ten years ago, out of a community free box. Is there anything cooler than finding the world's awesomest shirt in the community free box? I think not. About half my wardrobe came from a free box. Wardrobe. What kind of a word is that, anyway?

Speaking of words, tomorrow I take the GRE in lame-as-hell Dunwoody, Georgia, which is a suburb of the A-T-L. I've been studying for the verbal section, as I have no hope of doing well on the mathematics portions. No hope, I say. None. But the verbal I should be able to fairly rock. Of course that depends somewhat on how Eleanor sleeps tonight. Lately she's been up a lot. Teething = God's way of saying eff you to the human race. (One of many ways, I'm afraid.)

I just ran a bunch of errands downtown, with Ella strapped to my chest like a kangaroo. After the errands, I rewarded us with a used copy of Sun Ra's Space Is The Place album, which has been described as "futuristic Garveyite blaxpolitation bop fusion." We played it all the way home, Ella embellishing on the vocals. I must place tiny rewards ahead of myself or I will get nothing productive done. That's just the damn fact of the matter.

Somewhere floating around my life there is a ridiculous photo of me wearing this very shirt while goofin' around on LSD. I'm holding a five gallon bucket partially filled with pasta shells (though I don't recall if they're visible in the photograph). I'm in a timber framed fibercrete house in the high altitude deserts of southern Colorado. It's the middle of the night. UFO's & prismatic beings are hovering in the 8th dimension. And the pharoahs, in all their ancient Egyptian majesty, are with me.

p.s. About six hours after writing this post, I managed to dig up the photo described above: