Girls think your calusses are from weightlifting, or maybe even guitar playing, but no. Your fingers are rough from constantly cuffing your 15 oz selvedge denim. Every morning, you fold it in, roll it up, scrunch it just right, and look in the mirror. It's still off. You try and try again, until there's blood dripping on your Aldens. "It's worth it," you say to yourself. "Scott and Tommy will notice." Well, they don't notice, and they still won't take a picture of you.