Pedro El Awesomeo needs Bombs's blog: "Encephalon"

Before I start the story of my nipples today, I must first provide you with some background.

Most of my wardrobe consists of black shirts, T-Shirts, Polo Shirts, Button Down Shirts, all in black.  It’s not that I am gothic or anything, it just goes back to some friends I had in my “formative” years.  My friend Tony from Chicago who taught me the importance of having good quality shirts, at least one of them black, and my friend & roommate Dean from Brooklyn who basically had everything in black.  Another one of my fashion peccadilloes is that I will not wear a button down shirt without an undershirt, ever!  I don’t know if this is because the Army uniform requires it and it is ingrained unto my soul.  I know the Army was years ago, but I can still recite my basic training company motto verbatim and that was eight weeks a score ago.

So let’s jump into the now, and make this all relevant and bring it around to my nipples.  Typically, I would wear a white T-shirt as I am wearing a button down today but, a few weeks ago, I was shopping at Old Navy, and they had this black T-shirt that is from their Athletic Wear.  It’s made out of a fabric that breathes better and is supposed to keep you cooler.  It was a pretty warm day yesterday, and feeling a little fashion forward today, I opted for my silky smooth black shirt as my undershirt of choice.  Herein lies the problem, while casually wearing it around town, the shirt does rub up against me a bit, but to no large deal.  Today, when wearing it as an undershirt the effect is quite magnified.  Now I’ll admit being a man, my nipples do not have the exact same reactions as the nipples of a woman, but gender non-withstanding there still is a sensitivity in the general area.  I can report that my headlights are not in fact on, but it does feel like they are constantly being rubbed.  So you will have to excuse me today if I seem distracted.  Thank you.