My grandmother got me this dope sweater for Christmas (all 34 [literally, 34] cousins got exactly the same thing) and I put it on over a blue shirt and two jackets (one thermal-lined) in an effort to stay warm in this jail cell of an apartment in which I barely had the heat on at all last month and the gas bill was still $215. She used to get us remote-controlled cars and then we would all run outside and try them out but the frequencies were the same on each one, so you couldn't actually maneuver the damn things very well because of interference from the other kids' remote-controls, but it was fun, when you're a kid it doesn't matter. Now we get sweaters. That's very cliché.