My girlfriend recently remarked that I have a lot of t-shirts. She was correct, I have many, many t-shirts. Much more than any thirty-two year old really should have. T-shirts are, of course, the easiest, quickest way to tell as many people as possible that the husky, bearded man licking Burger Ring fuzz off his fingers is actually pretty cool. And even better, he's quirky.
So quirky is he that he's highlighting and detailing each and everyone of his t-shirts on his blog. Enter now, o traveler and be thee amazed.
2XL 100 percent cotton pre-shrunk, made in El Salvador. The cut is classically shapeless, designed to disguise a body which folds in on itself like a half-deflated bouncy castle.
Clearly pastoral is the style of the central image with a hint of Osborn children encyclopedia, it owes much to the last 100 years of interior gun catalog illustration. The stag, as depicted, neither displays nor evokes empathy. The hunt clearly has begun, for the prey has already accepted its destiny which is to supply God's people with red meat and velvet to sell to those strange little stores that always seem to have pictures of sheep in the window, yet appear to sell only bottles of pills.
A favorite, to be sure. Best worn when shooting the shit with the guys or eating chips.