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January 6, 2017
The green shirt is the shirt of shame.

If I have over-indulged in holiday treats and cocktails, and if I feel I have added new folds and features to my body, they can be hidden in the green shirt's capacious billows. I can stand atop a ship and put my arms out and the green shirt will catch the wind and sail us to the nearest harbor. It's really big.

After an abstemious January week of steamed vegetables and exercise, after the excess dump has been dissolved and exhaled, the green shirt can be put away until next year.