Code red for the fashion police

Last Saturday evening I’m on my way to meet my friend Donna and her husband, Joey, at Bally’s and find myself driving down the Las Vegas Strip. Of course, no one in their right mind drives down the Strip on a Saturday night, but I missed a turn that would have led me to the back entrance of the hotel/casino’s garage and instead of allowing my blood pressure to escalate, I vowed to enjoy the sights. If you have to sit in traffic, Las Vegas Boulevard is probably one of the more interesting stretches of pavement.

So there I am, moving about an eighth of an inch every 15 minutes, when I happen to glance over to one of those crappy souvenir shops. What do they have out front on the sidewalk but a rack of T-shirts that say, “I [heart symbol] to Fart.”

A T-shirt that proclaims, “I love to fart”! Hold on, let me process this for a second…

Okay, other than Family Guy Peter Griffin, just who on earth would be caught dead wearing something like that? Exactly who would have the freakin’ nerve to go up to the cashier with that shirt in hand? Aw, wait till the chicks see me in this! Certainly nothing screams "blueblood" like a T-shirt announcing your predilection for passing gas.

Would an adoring wife or girlfriend purchase it for the man of her dreams? Look, honey! You you love to fart — this is so you! And then months later, do you think, with arms folded across her chest, she’s complaining, “You never wear that ‘I love to fart’ T-shirt I gave you.” Yeah, that’s when you know the magic’s gone.

Should those shirts rightfully come in anything but XXL? Could they possibly (gulp!) be available in women’s sizes? A flirty tank top style, perhaps?

So many questions… what do you think?