The travelling T-shirt

I don't buy collectables, I collect shit. Once every now and again I get an urge, grab a black bag and throw shit out. If I didn't i'd be living in a shit-hole. The other day my dog, Black got a bit excited when I got home and bumped into a large pottery vase that was given to me, proudly I might add, by my mom. So I scraped the shit together and chucked it out. No harm done, and one less thing to take up space. During one of these urges, a few months back, I noticed an old t-shirt with a Harley motiff on, that I got from swapping with an old buddy during a night of heavy drinking. Anyhow, I in turn swapped it with some guy at a Rally and never thought of it again. Till the other day that is, when I woke up and went to have a shower. What would I notice in the mirror, but the same fuckin t-shirt. I thought I was tripping at first, but the holes and blemishes here and there, were excactly the fuckin same. I might tell you, that I don't a have a materialistic bone in my body. I've lost more cellphones, cameras and other paraphernalia than any person alive, i'm sure. Maybe i'll wake up one day and all my shit will be lying there. They say, the more you give the more you get. Well, I tell you man, if I continue losing shit at the rate that I do, i'm gonna get one big fuckin surprise one day.