Quotes & Sayings About Big T Shirts

What made a movie buff different from others was the amount of freakish details they chose to fill their heads with. The typical movie-goer remembered the big lines, the ones that you could find on the film's shirts and posters. Just a bunch of tag-lines used for promotion. A true movie buff memorized the odd ones that said more about the story's theme or characters. A true buff read up on the movie's history. — Kenya Wright

I'm not big on flak jackets and tie-dyed shirts. You know, that's not me. — Joe Biden

Agent Jones switched to the big screen and a grainy video of MoMo sitting at his enormous desk, a swivel-hipped Elvis clock ticking behind his bewigged head. 'Death to the capitalist pigs! Death to your cinnamon bun-smelling malls! Death to your power walking and automatic car windows and I'm With Stupid T-shirts! The Republic of ChaCha will never bend to your side-of-fries -drive -through-please-oh-would-you-like-ketchup-with-that corruption! MoMo B. ChaCha defies you and all you stand for, and one day, you will crumble into the sea and we will pick up the pieces and make them into sand art. — Libba Bray

I'm a big Ralph Lauren girl, but I love vintage clothing. I like the whole western jeans and boots style. I love vintage T-shirts and flannels, and there's nothing like a great vintage sweatshirt. — Lecy Goranson

Allan was next up, and the bidding was going strong as he got into the fun of the auction, flexing his muscles and smiling brightly.
"Way to go, SEAL!" Lori and Rose shouted.
"Take off your shirt!" Emma shouted.
Catherine whooped and whistled. Paul had to smile at Emma and Catherine.
Lori's face reddened a bit, probably because her own grandma had shouted out the recommendation.
Allan began unbuttoning his shirt slowly and the crowd went wild.
Paul laughed. He hadn't thought that a honey-do bachelor auction would be anything like this. Then again, Emma was a wolf and they could change the dynamics of a situation in a heartbeat. The ranch hands made a big deal of jerking their shirts out of their waistbands and then starting to unbutton them.
A woman shouted, "Just the shirts, gentlemen."
And that had everyone laughing. — Terry Spear

Compulsive? I lived and breathed refunding, and my children
benefited with their wide variety of toys, balls, and T-shirts
I obtained through my hobby. It was all a big game, and one that
I played well. And I was not alone. While there was no estimate
available on the number of people who were involved in refunding,
Carol Backs, publisher of Money Maker magazine in the
late 1980s and chairman of a trade association of refund magazine
publishers, claimed that refund magazines were selling eight
hundred thousand to one million subscriptions. — Mary Potter Kenyon

We were called to a pub that had our doormen on, we were told there was fighting. It was he, Big George, but he'd already left. We went in and the bouncers were smashed to bits, shirts ripped off, teeth knocked out, claret and glass everywhere. Single-handedly, George had demolished them, as if they were made out of cardboard. — Stephen Richards

Christmas turns things tail-end foremost. The day and the spirit of Christmas rearrange the world parade. As the world arranges it, usually there come first in importance
leading the parade with a big blare of a band
the Big Shots. Frequently they are also the Stuffed Shirts. That's the first of the parade. Then at the tail end, as of little importance, trudge the weary, the poor, the lame, the halt, and the blind. But in the Christmas spirit, the procession is turned around. Those at the tail end are put first in the arrangement of the Child of Christmas. — Bill Vaughan

Painted on shirts went over so well I thought, why not painted on pants? Well, the big shot manager at Krusty Burger didn't agree! — Matt Groening

I love the big, like, basketball sweats ... and I only wear vintage T-shirts to bed, because I like the super-thin ones. — Brad Goreski

And believe me, to have been in the city of Tuscaloosa in October when you were young and full of Early Times and had a shining Alabama girl by your side
to have had all that and then to have seen those red shirts pour onto the field, and, then, coming behind them, with that inexorable big cat walk of his, the man himself, The Bear
that was very good indeed. — Howell Raines

Son unas cualquieras, she mutters. Nobodies. No culture, no family life, illiterates, she means. The kind of people who make her cross to the other side of the street if she meets them in the dark on payday. They're her worst nightmare of what a Latin girl can become in the United States. Their big hoop earrings and plucked eyebrows, their dark lips painted like those stars in the old black-and-white movies, their tight T-shirts that show too much curve and invite boys' touches. — Meg Medina

It was always right in front of me. The fear was there in the extravagant boys of my neighborhood, in their large rings and medallions, their big puffy coats and full-length fur-collared leathers, which was their armor against the world. They would stand on the corner of Gwynn Oak and Liberty, or Cold Spring and Park Heights, or outside Mondawmin Mall, with their hands dipped in Russell sweats, I think back on those boys now and all I see is fear, and all I see is them girding themselves against the ghosts of the bad old days when the Mississippi mob gathered 'round their grandfathers so that the branches of the black body might be torched, then cut away. The fear lived on in their practiced bop, their slouching denim, their big T-shirts, the calculated angle of their baseball caps, a catalog of behaviors and garments enlisted to inspire the belief that these boys were in firm possession of everything they desired. — Ta-Nehisi Coates

After putting my boxers on, I noticed a hole in the back of them. I got another pair; it had a hole, too. Every pair of boxers I owned had a hole in them. I unrolled my socks and noticed a hole in toe of both of them. I got another pair they had holes, too. After looking at 6 different pair, all wit' holes in the big toe I asked Cola, "What happened to all my socks and boxers?" "Huh?" "What happened to my socks and boxers? What the fuck? And my damn shirts?" Every shirt I owned had a hole in the underarm. "That's what happens when you don't come home. Sorry." I stared at her for a long time before I laughed. She knew what she was doing. Every time my socks and shirts had a hole in them I got mad. That got under my skin for some reason. "You crazy," I laughed. — Nicole Black

Neumann One, if he were not scheduled to die ten weeks from now in the Allied invasion of Normandy, might have become a barber later in life, who would have a smelled of talc and whiskey and put his index finger into men's ears to position their heads, whose pants and shirts always would have been covered with clipped hairs, who, in his shop, would have taped postcards of the Alps around the circumference of a big cheap wavery miirror, who would have been faithful to his stout wife for the rest of his life
Neumann One says, Time for haircuts. — Anthony Doerr

When I'm in the field, when I'm working, I keep very careful notes. I wear big shirts with big breast pockets, and I carry in them two little spiral notebooks. — Peter Matthiessen

From Taking Your Clothes to the Salvation Army:
Okay, so strangers will be grateful for this, will wear the socks to keep their feet warm, blow their noses in your handkerchiefs, pull up the shorts, tuck in the size large shirts (too small for our boys, too big for our daughter), and bits of you will be out there, engaging in a life you no longer have. — Jane Yolen

The United States was a big country where everybody wore funny t-shirts and ate too much. — Adam Rex

He wears jeans, untucked shirts, and a Glock 19, and he has a big shaggy dog named Bob. — Janet Evanovich

1974 meant big cuffs, bell-bottoms, platform shoes with two-tone colors, and body-conscious shirts. — Kyle MacLachlan

In the morning we shed our blue sheep's clothing. Our border shirts came out of satchels and onto our backs. We preferred this means of dress for it was more flatout and honest. The shirts were large with pistol pockets, and usually colored red or dun. Many had been embroidered with ornate stitching by loving women some were blessed enough to have. Mine was plain, but well broken in. I can think of no more chilling a sight than that of myself all astride my big bay horse with six or eight pistols dangling from my saddle, my rebel locks aloft on the breeze and a whoopish yell on my lips. When my awful costume was multiplied by that of my comrades, we stopped feint hearts just by our mode of dread stylishness. — Daniel Woodrell

Adam snorted as he pulled on a faded green t-shirt that said "I Heart Coyotes." Yet another sign that folding my clean clothes wasn't too big a price to pay to make him happy. He didn't have any "I Heart Christy " shirts or I would have burned them already. — Patricia Briggs

Zebra print leggings. A black leather jacket. Boots as big as your head, a pink feather boa, blue jeans, Hanes T-shirts in white and black - — J.R. Ward

The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks, who were more barbarian than the rest, with their big cow-boy hats, great baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails. They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque, but do not look prepossessing. On — Bram Stoker

Racing shirts should be sold on big, thick rolls like paper towels. — Brad Alan Lewis

Jeremy's T-Shirts by book:
Hard As It Gets
"ROUTE 69"
"This guy loves BACON" with two hands with their thumbs pointing back at him
"Orgasm Donor" with a red cross
Big Johnson's Tattoo Parlor, "You're going to feel more than a Little Prick"
"I'm not Santa but you can still sit on my lap"

Hard As You Can
Log-holding beaver that says, "Are you looking at my wood?"
"I put the long in schlong"

Hard to Hold On To
"Blink if you're horny"

Hard to Come By
Hand pointing downward and the words, "May I suggest the sausage?"
Charlie (who starts borrowing Jeremy's t-shirts): A smiling fire extinguished that says, "I put out"
Charlie: Schnauzer wearing a saddle that says, "Weiner Rides, 25 cents"
"HEAD Foundation. Please give generously"
Charlie: Mr. T with the words "Mr. T Shirt"
There's a party in my pants. You're invited. — Laura Kaye

Nintendo not letting itself make a browser Mario game has not stopped a flash flood of in-browser Mario games. Super Mario Flash, New Super Mario Bros. Flash, Infinite Mario, and the amazing Super Mario Crossover, which lets you play the original SMB games using characters from Castlevania, Excitebike, Ninja Gaidan, and more. (If you like that, try Abobo's Big Adventure.) There are free (and unlicensed) Mario games where he rides a motorbike, takes a shotgun to the Mushroom Kingdom, decides to fight with his fists, is replaced by Sonic, replaces Pac-Man in a maze game, and plays dress-up. They receive no admonition from Nintendo's once-ferocious legal department. Why not? Iwata's explanation is commonsensical: "[I]t would not be appropriate if we treated people who did someone based on affection for Nintendo as criminals." This is also why no one has been told by lawyers to stop selling Wario-as-a-pimp T-shirts. — Jeff Ryan

I don't wear the see-through shirts or anything too glittery. I come from that '90s school of rap. Fitted caps, because I got a big head, so snapbacks don't fit me right. — Meek Mill

My generation was obsessed with scoliosis. Judy Blume dedicated an entire novel to it. At least once a month we would line up in the gym, lift our shirts, and bend over, while some creepy old doctor ran his finger up and down our spines. Nuclear war was a high-concept threat, two words that often rang out in political speeches or on the six o-clock news. Our spines. Lice. Nuclear war. The Big Three. — Amy Poehler

I just wear jeans, big motorcycle boots and T-shirts that are way too big for me. I like anything that has lived a little bit, that has traces of life on it. Knitwear that's a tiny bit too long because you've pulled it with your hands, or jeans that are starting to get holes. — Clemence Poesy