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01/18/05
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."
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Live, New Shirts All New, All the Time
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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:
http://www.tshirthell.com/miscpages/nsn/newshirt417.htm
If you're an AOL user, or unable to click
the link above, copy and paste it
into your browser.
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Come Work In Hell
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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:
http://www.tshirthell.com/miscpages/job.htm
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Check it out
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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
shelter?
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
improvement.
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Having a Hate Wave, A Tropical Hate Wave
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----- Original Message -----
From: mcupcake @ mc***kell.com
Sent: Wednesday, January 08, 2005 10:15 PM
Subject:
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.)
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----- 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".)
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----- 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.)
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----- 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.)
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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
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