I wore my new Frontalot T to the landfill today, and was surrounded by bluebirds and kind woodland creatures. Crowds parted in awed admiration. The paparazzi are still camped outside my door. The shirt's color changes with my mood, and it matches my eye color (which varies). It has cured both my eczema and my hysterical blindness. And I don't know if it's related or not, but ever since I put on the shirt I've become an expert at INTERCAL, a programming language I've never actually heard of before.

I volunteered to help a good friend of mine do a bit of GrassRoots PR for a Documentary he had spent the last few years working on. At the film fest i was handing out tons and tons of cards helping him out, and i was wearing my bitchin' frontalot t-shirt. The director was like "WOW I've met that guy, he wrote a really good poem at a poetry reading." I was awe struck, this man has actually met the mighty MC, he is real!? Was he as ill as his rhymes?

I very recently returned from a six month trek through China, often clothed in your becoming apparel.  The attached photo is me and some children in a village school in Yunnan, the southernmost province of China bordering Vietnam. The children are sent down to school at the beginning of the week, where they live until they have time to walk back up into the mountains to work.  To attest to the global spread of the fronting - I met not one (no!) but TWO individuals in the entirety of China who recognized your shirt and knew your music. Awesome.

I'm not a fashionable person. I don't keep track of trends. I don't even really understand how clothes are supposed to combine into outfits. I usually use clothes to keep myself from being naked, cold, or both, and I don't think the people who look at me in public would judge my relationship with clothes to go much further than that. This is why I was so surprised to win best dressed in the yearbook, and see myself wearing my Frontalot shirt in the pic.