I was digging around my room, pulling out laundry to do a load in our new washing machine, which we inherited from a family that didn't have electricity anymore, and so didn't need it (swear to God), when I happened upon my old gym bag. I opened it up to see if there was anything still inside that could use a washing (and by this time, I was pretty certain that whatever was in there would certainly need a good scrubbing), and pulled out this shirt.
My shirt, it seems, had dissolved during its long siesta in my gym bag. I did the only logical thing and called my parents for details. They didn't know either, but a brief Google search revealed that, over time, sweat will actually dissolve cotton. Huh. This is the sort of pertinent information the Cotton Council never puts in those damn commercials.
In other news, my brother did the grocery shopping this week at Dollar Tree, which was having a sale (danger, Will Robinson!). One of his purchases was this item:
That's right, folks. Keep it simple. Pay only for taste. Unfortunately, the box didn't specify who I was to pay for taste, because it isn't the Cocoa Drops Company. Chris and I ate exactly two Cocoa Drops between us - my one that I spewed into the sink, his one that he spewed into the trash can after trying it to see if it was as bad as I said. I suppose its only to be expected - if "don't trust purchasing advice from a cartoon kid on a skateboard" isn't in every financial guide somewhere, it should be.