Last week Prince Harry got in trouble for wearing a Nazi uniform to a
costume party. He later apologized saying, "I'm sorry, nobody told me
it was a costume party."

Live, New Shirts All New, All the Time

We have 5 great new shirts this week all about the usual stuff: sex and
drugs, and retards and cancer. We even have one about Brad Pitt and
Jennifer Aniston breaking up. I hope he did leave her for Angelina Jolie.
I mean, Jennifer Anniston is nice, like a new Mercedes S Class is nice.
She's elegant, expensive, and if your friends saw you with her, they would
think you were doing pretty well.

But Angelina Jolie is like a Ferrari, but a rental Ferrari. You know you
aren't the first, you know you won't be the last. Sure, it's dirty, the
backseat smells of semen, it has a few dings in it, and a hell of a lot of
miles on it. But it's still pretty sexy and you want all of your friends to
see you in it. And best of all you could let your friends ride in it and
not worry about it. Next week I'll explain why Courtney Love is like a
Greyhound Bus pass.

All of our new shirts are here:

If you're an AOL user, or unable to click the link above, copy and paste it
into your browser.

Come Work In Hell

We are looking to hire a full time Webmaster/Graphic Artist/Art Coordinator.
You will work from home, but must live in or around New York City. If
you're interested, and qualified, all of the details are here:

Check it out

While I'm the first to admit that I really hate everybody, I'm starting to
develop a new, deeper hatred for cashiers. Now don't defend them and tell
me that they're young. We have children working in our t-shirt facility and
they are all more alert and enthusiastic than the average check out girl.
Yes, there are car batteries attached to their nipples but those are only
used once or twice a day.

Let's have a little smile check out girl, is that so much to ask? You're
not in a dark, dank subterranean factory with a car battery hooked up to
your nipples, you're in a Wal-Mart; the happiest fucking place on Earth.
Cheer the fuck up.

Are you bitter that the American Idol thing didn't pan out? No one wants to
buy your original jewelry creations made out of chewing gum and old tampon
strings? You will definitely not be appreciated in your own lifetime. You
should kill yourself, but first ring me up.

Could you move a little slower? Because this is where I want to spend my
day. I don't run several successful Fortune 500 companies. I have tons of
free time. This beats lying on my private beach. This is like getting a
soothing hot river rock massage. This is better. I can see if there's any
new candy I'd like to try; I can browse the tabloids; I can strike up an
intelligent conversation with the 300lb Indian woman wearing her nightgown
who's standing behind me who has apparently rolled in dog shit and vomit
before coming in.

Oh, you're going to go on break now before ringing me up? Don't you need to
actually do some work before you can take a break? Because you just spent
ten minutes talking to that toad on register four about her genital warts.
Maybe she should stop participating in the gang bangs down at the homeless

Could you smash everything I just bought, by being less careful when you bag
it? I definitely want those bowling balls on top of my Flora Danica
porcelain fruit basket. There's still room in the bag? Well by all means
jam some more stuff in it. God forbid you should use a second bag so
someone other than my personal trainer can lift it out of the carriage.

But don't worry he doesn't have to hold it for long. Since you couldn't be
bothered to double bag it, the entire contents of the bag are going to tear
through the bottom and scatter across the parking lot accompanied by
shrieks of delight from the retard collecting the carts.

And high end stores are the worst. You snotty cunt in your knock off suit,
and pleather pumps. You don't own this store and unlike me you can not
afford to shop here. Lose that superior attitude and ring me up, bitch
before I test the strength of that display case by slamming your head into
it repeatedly to see which one cracks first.

When I was a kid there were actually buttons on the cash register and people
actually paid with cash or even checks! A cashier had to be able to read
and do basic math. Now if you can wave an item over a scanner you can be a
cashier. Everyone pays with credit cards so there's no money to deal with.
The only requirement to be a cashier is the ability to wave an item. Your
job has been reduced to waving. I've got news for you: the retard in the
parking lot can wave, beauty pageant contestants can wave... the fucking
palm trees on my lawn can wave if there's a stiff breeze!

Cashiers, if you think you are miserable now, wait until you are replaced
by robots. They will be stupid, miserable, lazy robots and they will be an

Having a Hate Wave, A Tropical Hate Wave

----- Original Message -----
From: mcupcake @ mc***
Sent: Wednesday, January 08, 2005 10:15 PM

i have a theory that all these letters are fake and you just make them up so
you can write edgy and hard-hitting 'replies' in order to convey the image
of being a 'badass' and impress your friends.

(Editor's Note: Sorry, cupcake so much for that theory. Does seeing your
own letter here simply blow the last few active braincells in your head?
Although I have a theory that you wrote your letter to in order to reinforce
your image as a 'jackass' in front of all of the people who you think are
your friends, but actually hang out with you to steal liquor and porn from
your dad; and get free rusty trombones from your mom.)


----- Original Message -----
From: Jose P.
Sent: Tuesday, January 18, 2005 2:58 AM
Subject: Tsunami Shirt

Hey.. Wish u had surfed the tsunami... I would really have enjoyed it, so u
won't be able to make more stupid t-shirts... I guess, i had really liked u
surf it, because no one would blame of 10000 persons' death... Or, will
someone make a t-shirt of your death?

(Editor's Note: This is one of those head scratchers. Is 10,000 Spanish
for 170,000? Please learn English before sending me vaguely
insulting/threatening emails. It saddens me that you will not truly
appreciate my vicious personal attack. Death by Tsunami is too good for you
Jose. I would like to drown you in a bucket of your own piss. Then they
will make a t-shirt when I die. It will say, "Visionary business tycoon
dies laughing while drowning Jose in a bucket of his own piss".)


----- Original Message -----
From: shuaib h.
Sent: Friday, January 07, 2005 5:13 AM
Subject: I used to think you were cool...

I thought that all the shit thats on your website was just friendly humour
and just a joke but i didnt realise that you hold racist views. I really
hope you and your Klan enjoy being absolute twats. Go suck your mums cock
and put your ass for sale to those big scary guys in white cloaks and while
your at it stick a burning cross up your ass as well. U Shithead.

(Editor's Note: Listen Shuaib you know it's all in good fun. Remember how
much fun you had wearing that cloak with the hood? Remember? It was when
we were over in Abu Ghraib? Boy those were good times. What do you say I
grab your leash and I can run you around the block naked just for old time's
sake? Racist? Some of my best friends really are white people.)


----- Original Message -----
From: Jesse V.
Sent: Sunday, January 16, 2005 8:03 PM
Subject: Re: T-Shirt Hell Confirmation

So, I don't know if i told you about my ex Rob and all the bullshit he's
been putting me through. It's a long story but today I had had enough and I
decided to go to the police station just to see what my rights were and what
I could do as far as a restraining order or just having a complaint put in
about him. So, I went there and talked to a cop and basically they can't do
anything. That Rob hasn't violated the law in any way but if he knocks on
the doors in the middle of the night again or puts shit on my car again to
call them. That they will come here for any reason and maybe if they are
called that he will get stop. So, anyway, me and Gail told Todd (my
landlord) that we are going to move out. So, if you know of any two bedroom
apartments let me know. I can't take this anymore. I haven't even been
able to sleep well for the past two weeks. I freak out every time i hear
any noise in the apartment and can't fall asleep. i wake up every couple
hours and can't fall asleep again cause I'm so scared. So, that's what's
new with me. How are you?

(Editor's Note: I'm fine. I'm just writing my monthly newsletter, sharing
your story with about 800,000 subscribers. I'm sure Rob doesn't mean any
harm. It's not unusual for a guy to build an altar to his ex, or to steal
her underwear. He probably shouldn't be wearing it on his head when he goes
to work, but that's just part of his 'process'. I hope you and Gail find a
new place soon as I hear a a lot of rustling in the bushes! Just Kidding!
LOL! I wish you a lot of luck. Since you obviously don't know how to
send email to the correct address, I hope that you don't try to go to the
police station and end up at the post office. Those guys shoot first and
ask questions later.)


Donald Trump is getting married again. I think he's finally found his soul
mate. If by soul mate you mean latest gold digging whore. I hope he has a
good prenup, and I hope she has a strong stomach. I wonder if it's any
easier to take it up the ass from a creepy, dried up old man when your face
is buried in a goose down pillow and you're tied to a solid gold bed.

Bye-Bye Low, Sell High