I’ve been there, done that, and bought too many t-shirts. The worst part? I rarely wear t-shirts.
Yesterday would have been a good day to wear one of the many t-shirts I own because apparently it was wear-your-favorite-t-shirt-day at the gym. I did not get the memo.
World’s Greatest Grandma was in the house.
No Pain No Spain..Well, he was there, too. He’s either still training for or celebrating the 1992 Olympic Games, I can’t be sure.
Not Only Am I’m Perfect, I’m Italian, too. How can you argue with that, right, Dad? I’m not going to lie, the guy smelled of garlic…either that, or the Olive Garden that happens to be across the street from the gym fired up the oven a little early.
Superman was at the gym, too. Who knew the man of steel worked out in Omaha, Nebraska?
I’m pretty much a tank top wearing kind of girl. Usually the words Adidas, Nike, Under Armour, or Champion appear on my shirts. Although, some days I bust out my Grumpy tank that I bought on a trip to Disney. And, sometimes, I’ll wear the t-shirt that the cool kids at L.A. Boxing sent me…
I love, love, love this shirt, but truth be told, the only thing my gym can beat another gym at is bingo, but that’s a story for another day.
