lost in the sauce - t-shirt
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I'd gone too far this time. When she saw the credit card transactions and asked me what bored ape yacht club was I started sobbing and it all came out. She didn't understand, the risk was too high for her but for me it was as smart as investing in a 2 bedroom terraced house with a nice garden close to the Aldi. As safe as houses like the old saying goes. Me and my NFT ape collection will ride out the current financial climate and my son will be able to sell them to afford his first yacht. It all makes sense when you think about it. Of the 230,000 bored apes out there, I have 8 of them that are totally unique (one has a monocle, the other is missing a tooth). They're all mine and people will obviously pay handsomely for them in the future.
But she say's its too much. I have to stop buying them but I can't. I'm in too deep and I get this weird dopamine high every time I add one to my collection. The last one I bought was called 'rare' by this guy on reddit so obviously I had to buy it. She said its the NFT's or her and I said, why not both? I agreed to stop buying more of them, I was in at the ground floor anyway so I don't need more (I opened a second bank account to buy some rare new NFT's that look like slugs with sunglasses on tho cause I think they're gonna blow up next year).
I needed help. How else do you control an addiction like this? I remember watching the movie train spotting where he's trying to get off smack so he locks himself in a room for 2 weeks with beans and a bucket to shit and puke in. We had a basement that had a toilet in so I don't need to go that far but I thought maybe it may be best taking 2 weeks off work and having some alone time, away from my small internet (blackberry phone) and my big internet (windows desktop running legacy XP). Two weeks of meditating on my life, away from the rat race that is the NFT market. Away from checking my phone every 2 seconds to see how much money I've made or lost on alt coins I can barely pronounce.
So I explained to her, I'm going into the basement for a while. I want you to lock the door behind me. I've packed the whole place with cans of beans and water and some books I had been meaning to read. You'll need to take the boy to school and if he asks where I am just lie to him, he's only 4 and i doubt he will understand that daddy needs some daddy time right now to heal his fractured mind. She looked at me puzzled, then at the floor and then I saw the tear fall and she turned away and I took that as an agreement. This is how you handle women, just tell them how it is, they'll come around.
So the next day, after checking I had enough beans and water to last me a while I entered my basement and waved goodbye to my wife. She just silently shook her head as she locked the door behind me and I strolled down the stairs and looked at my kingdom for the next 2 weeks. I had over 69 cans of beans, 420 litres of water. A book about fishing I thought would help me reflect on life and a few other none fiction self help books to get me through this time alone. I wanted to emerge from my underground thought chamber like Plato's allegory of the cave.
It was boring at first, but I enjoyed the solitude. I felt like a monk in a silent retreat. Bland food, just some walls to humour me. I made friends with a small plant I noticed growing out of a crack in the concrete in the corner and I would chat to it at night sometimes like it was real. He would tell me jokes and I'd laugh but I knew he wasn't really talking, just a little game I played with myself to pass the time.
It was on day 5 the strangest thing happened. After waking up and staring for a solid 3 minutes at my own reflection in the mirror I opened my first can of beans for the day. It felt... Heavier than the rest of the cans and when I poured it out the beans came but also out came a very sloppy wet golden retriever puppy. I couldn't believe my eyes. It... Couldn't believe it's own eyes as they hadn't opened yet but it was alive and squirming like it had just been born. I instantly turned the hob off and just stood pondering what I was looking at for a while as this bean dog rolled around and mewled in its own juices. It sucked up a bean and seemed happy. I guess that's what it eats?
I opened up the toilet and rinsed him off with some water over the bowl. Once he was clean and dried I placed him on the floor and covered him in a lemon scented single use hand wipe I was using to clean myself with like some kind of little blanket to make sure he remained warm. I wasn't sure what to name him just yet, so I thought I'd sleep on it. I spent the rest of the day just looking at him, occasionally glancing inside the empty can as if it held any answers as to what was happening. Should I come out of my retreat? Am I losing my mind?
The following morning his eyes opened and I watched from the corner as he surveyed his new kingdom, sniffing around the place. He looked at me with pride like I was his dad and he even seemed to enjoy the little plant I had made friends with. He barked at it like he wanted it to play with him and I smiled at the two of them getting along.
I would read books out loud now so he could enjoy them too. I had a book written by a legendary pick up artist I read to him and I thought, he's gonna get all the ladies now he knows all the secret codes to hotwire their brains. He's gonna be a player! Once we emerge from here and into the bright new world.
As the two weeks came to a close, my wife would be opening the door any moment. I stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at the basement door, hoping that she can see me healed, smiling. She can see me and feel relieved that this was the right thing to do. My little bean dog by my side to welcome her, a new life for us all. I heard her begin to turn the lock and as she did the bean dog scarpered away, running happily towards the toilet, I turned and watched but could do nothing as he dived directly into the bowl and when I ran over to see what had happened he was gone. Like he must have crawled into the plumbing or something. I turned around from the toilet and my wife was now there, she asked why I was looking so intensely at the toilet and if I was Ok.
I told her about the bean dog and I knew that was it. I showed her the can he came out of and her face pulled this expression like somebody had taken an old Nokia phone and yeeted it at her brain with an angry force. It totally blew her fucking mind and she stormed upstairs and just grabbed the boy as I pleaded with her that I'm not making it all up it really happened. She got in the car and the last I saw of my sons was his face staring at me confused through the glass as they drove away.
Later that evening, I didn't even check my phone or my internet. I didn't care anymore. I just moped around the house thinking, what does it all mean? As I brushed my teeth and looked at myself in the mirror I heard a small woof come from the sink hole... And when I looked down there he was, staring back at me. My little bean dog now lives in my sink just like my NFT's live in my computer. I smiled because I know I may have lost my wife and child but I have gained much more than that. In that moment I felt complete.
Above model is 6" / 183cm
Above model is 5.5" / 167cm
Size Guide (in / cm)
| Size | L | W | S |
|---|---|---|---|
| S | 26⅝ / 67.6 | 18¼ / 46.4 | 16¼ / 41.3 |
| M | 28 / 71 | 20¼ / 51.4 | 17¾ / 45 |
| L | 29⅜ / 74.6 | 22 / 56 | 19 / 48.3 |
| XL | 30¾ / 78 | 24 / 61 | 20½ / 52 |
| 2XL | 31⅝ / 80.3 | 26 / 66 | 21¾ / 55.2 |
| 3XL | 32½ / 82.6 | 27¾ / 70.5 | 23¼ / 59 |
| 4XL | 33½ / 85 | 29¾ / 75.6 | 24⅝ / 62.6 |
L = Length · W = Width · S = Sleeve
±2" / 5 cm variance
To measure at home:
Length – top shoulder to bottom hem
Width – armpit to armpit
Sleeve – top of sleeve to cuff
Turn the garment inside out to protect the print. Wash in cold water (30°C/86°F) on a delicate cycle (around 600 rpm) using a soft detergent. Avoid fabric softener, bleach (even non-chlorine if possible), dry cleaning, and using a dryer to prevent fading, shrinkage, or damage to the print.
Shipping & Delivery
- Please contact us immediately if you need to adjust your order.
- Avoid parcel lockers and PO boxes; they often cause delivery issues.
- All orders ship with tracking; if you don’t get tracking within 5 business days, contact us.
- If your order is lost in the mail, we replace it on us.
Processing & transit times
- Processing: 2–5 days.
- Delivery: 3 business days (USA), 5 (EU & UK), 10 (rest of world), longer during holidays.
Returns & exchanges
Manufacturer contact information:
- Name: dogecore ltd
- Email address: helpme@dogecore.com - Postal address: 469 Kingsway, Manchester, England, M19 1NR
- Age restrictions: For adults
- EU Warranty: 2 years