I don’t know if tomato sauce has a particular physical affinity for white dress shirts, or if, by some strange psychological effect, wearing the white shirt causes me to crave such foods, or more likely, that from past experience my nervousness when eating spaghetti while wearing a white dress shirt is the predominant cause of the accident, but in any case:
FUCK!
I wear white shirts almost exclusively. I think they look sharp. Despite my best efforts, I am plagued by tomato stains.
Some sort of corner of quantuem theory seems to be in play here.
What? Are you suggesting that your shirts are both stained and not stained at the same time? That they are in some strange quantum limbo state of tomato sauce stainedness until you look down and either say “hmm, snappy shirt” or “fuck, holy tomato quantum stain, batman”? We need to know.
The only logical solution is to conduct an experiment. In one pile: an assortment of freshly pressed white pants, dress shirts, white silk ties, white socks, and elegant white dinner jackets. In the other, colours and more casual clothes. The experimenter, standing atop a six-foot ladder, holds a bucket of meatballs dripping in marinara sauce, deftly inserting each into an apparatus fixed to drop the meatball dead center between the two piles, whilst his assistant stands at the ready below with clipboard and measuring tape in hand.
Grants provided by the National Science Foundation, and by Tide laundry detergent.
Of course, this well-known effect can be used to propel a spacecraft:
ah yes, happens everytime.
and for those of you who have not yet tried to travel to work with a cup of coffee, let me tell you, never on white shirt/light colored pants day! and don’t be fooled by the safety cups with the turny thing that covers the opening. inevitably, the lid will not go on properly and/or pop off as you are accelerating from the stop light.
sidenote: this will never happen in your driveway, but as you are pulling into work.
Yes, both coffee and tomato sauce related products have some sort of magnetic attraction on light-colored clothing. I was driving to school one day and got McDonald’s on the way. I was eating a hamburger while on the freeway (bad, yeah I know 
) when I unwittingly splilled an enormous glob of ketchup on my white shirt. When I got to school (this was in the evening BTW) I had no way to really clean it off so I had to sit in class with this huge red stain on the front of my shirt…It was pretty damn embarassing! :eek:
There is a definite and provable relation between tomato products (sauce and ketchup) and white shirts. Nobody knows for sure whether it is a magnetic attraction, gravity, or some weird atomic quantum thing. I think Einstein was working on a solution, but he never finished.
As far as a shirt being stained and not stained, that has something to do with Schrodinger’s Tomato. The shirt is not stained unless you are there to observe it. Ain’t science fun? 
Damn you, Q.E.D., I was going to post that.
I have realized that many of my shirts are not stained until I visit my mom and she observes them. Up until that point they were fine, but upon the moment of observation by mom they immediatly enter the state of “you can’t wear that”
I’ve got one white shirt. I keep it covered up in my wardrobe until I need it for a wedding or a funeral. I have noticed that tomato sauce and wedding/funeral meals don’t co-exist. So no tomatoey stains. Simple, problem solved.
Now I would suggest curry stains on the other hand… 
:rolleyes:
Buona sera, ain’t it true? Every white shirt I have ever owned has in short order been besmirched by tomato sauce. Until this thread, I thought I was the only one. I can go weeks without tasting, seeing, or even smelling tomato sauce while dressed in my normal darkish shirts, but put on white and wham-o, tomato sauce falls from the sky.
I have accomodated this phenomenon by never, ever wearing white shirts except as undershirts, except, of course in the rare summers when I’m truly lean, and then I might wear a wife-beater now and then. But those are disposable.
Otherwise, nuh-uh.
This is an extremely inefficient method of propulsion. The rocket can only go as far as you can reasonably fling the sauce.
I propose feline propulsion.
Try this experiment: Fill the tub with water. Grab the cat and bring it to the tub. Get the iodine, and clean your wounds. Look for the cat again. Try under the bed.
Once you have secured the cat (after your discharge from the hospital), hold it over the tub. Release.
Observe that the cat rises more or less vertically, and at great velocity. Theoretically, if you didn’t have a ceiling the cat would rise indefinitely. Therefore, I propose securing an array of cats to the base of a rocket and suspending the rocket over a small lake.
I have tried this, and the results are predictable: Rockets chase bugs.