I’m a pretty clean guy, and when I say clean, I mean all-around clean. You could take it in a hygiene sense. I shower daily. Or a sexual sense. I’m STD free. Or even that I don’t like clutter in my kitchen. I’m tempted to break my cleanliness for a month however, all because of one ridiculous challenge—the T-shirt challenge.

My friends invited me to try this with them, and I’m not quite sure if I can commit.

The T-shirt challenge bears a striking resemblance to the pants challenge, where participants wear one pair of their own pants every day for a month without washing them. On the last day, everyone trades pants with someone else and goes through a day awkwardly apologizing for someone else’s stench emitting from their trousers. This is what the T-shirt challenge is, except everywhere the word pants appears above, you just replace with T-shirt. We’re all in college; college is full of one-month challenges (note: see no-shave November) so this should be easy enough.

I’ve been mulling this opportunity of utter griminess for a few weeks now, weighing the pros and cons.

The pros being that I wouldn’t have to wash any shirts for a month.

The cons being that I’d lose all female interest in my life, catch a nasty rash (I’m assuming), stink to high heavens, possibly lose my job and probably get sexually accosted by a number of wild and domesticated animals, including Baby Jay. Baby Jay can’t resist this musk.

For some odd reason, I can’t seem to shake the idea that doing this challenge could be a good time. When in my life will I have the opportunity to wear the same T-shirt for a month without washing it?

When I’m homeless?

All logic has eluded me.

I’ve got one major worry, though. I sweat. I sweat a lot. I sweat so much that when I take in clothes to Goodwill they say, “Uh we can’t take these.” And I usually respond, “why not?” as I’m holding up a shirt that is as stiff as a saltine cracker. I ruin shirts, so I’m thinking I’d ruin the gladiator of a G=T-shirt I’d wear for a month in, oh, about three days.

Also, in the rulebook for the T-shirt challenge nothing is mentioned about what can be worn if you’d like to go to the gym. Or what can be worn to a funeral or wedding. I suppose layering is always an option, but I fear my shirt will be so putrid that attendees may fear that the corpse is rotting when really it’s just my sad, sad T-shirt.

If you’re at all interested in the T-shirt challenge, take part in it from April 1 to April 30. This article is published in advance because this takes planning. A participant must choose the right T-shirt, the one that could last a month, and the right deodorant as well.

Just don’t forget that, on the last day, you have to switch with someone else who’s been wearing the same T-shirt for a month, too. Just watch out for that rash.

Stewart is a Wichita junior in journalism.