Yes, the Band Geek Hero shirts are back! Guitar Hero parodies with 25 different instruments to choose from. If you're a hotass band geek who goes to special camps or whatever, then get ready to jump for joy.
You'll look sharp as you fall flat on your g clef. Man, I am no good at band humor. You will all get laid if you wear these shirts- even the guy who normally has to settle for tickling his prostate with the business end of a trumpet.
I hope you've picked out your turkey and your secret shame to drunkenly reveal to your family, because Thanksgiving is almost here. And don't let the fact that there's nothing to be thankful for this year stop you from celebrating. After all, this generation's defining trait is irony.
In "world coming to an end" news, researchers have discovered another icy thing melting. Jesus Christ... it's every other week with this shit. The planet is melting; boohoo. Save it for a species that gives a fuck.
Congratulations to the Yankees on another World Series title. They have moved one step closer to justifying their payroll. Now all they have to do is cure cancer, reverse global warming, go back in time to kill Hitler, and definitively prove whether or not there's a God. Get to work, Bombers!
For the first time in 27 years, an American won the NYC marathon last week. This makes me feel a great sense of pride I usually only feel when I realize every American that isn't that guy is obese. U - S - A! U - S - Oh man, I'm out of breath.
The 3-D update of the holiday classic "A Christmas Carol" was just released. Between the state-of-the-art motion capture technology and 3-D format this was the most engrossing film experience I've ever had. The only thing missing was the smell of Hollywood executives throwing stacks and stacks of original screenplays on a fire.
Mel Gibson and his girlfriend recently welcomed a baby girl into their family. Much has been made of Gibson's recent exploits, so he wanted to clear up right away any confusion regarding how he would be raising his daughter. She is going to be an alcoholic Jew-hater. Awww, she's got her father's hate. Precious.
Sandra Bullock and husband Jesse James are in a custody battle for James' 5-year-old daughter with James' ex, a former adult film star. The judge on the case is still trying to decide who would be less damaging for the child: a woman who got covered with jizz for a living, or the woman who made the Miss Congeniality movies?
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Move over, "the written word," because Sarah Palin is about to release "Going Rogue," her highly anticipated memoir. Memoir, of course, being the French word for "culture fisting." I was fortunate enough to get an advance copy of the book, so here is my chapter-by-chapter review of the indispensable masterwork that is sure to replace the back-up singing bass on your bookshelf.
Chapter I: Easily the best chapter; simply delicious. And I mean that literally, as chapter one is a few sheets of page-shaped pieces of jerky. Buffalo jerky, elk jerky, wild boar jerky and traditional beef jerky made up one of my finest reading experiences in recent memory. And the final page of the chapter, a piece of fruit leather, was a charming surprise.
Chapter II: Sure to please die-hard supporters and harsh critics alike, this chapter makes incisive observations and pulls back the curtain on Washington. I especially like the part where you pull the tab and make Katie Couric drop her pants. And while the literati have dismissed it as juvenile and lowbrow, you will be hard-pressed to find a stronger statement on the state of partisanship in this nation than the page you open to make Barack Obama's and John McCain's lightsaber-cocks smack each other.
Chapter III: My least favorite chapter. A glued-together collection of greeting cards may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but it undermines the layered commentary that made earlier chapters so powerful. It also seems entirely devoid of cohesion or theme. It jumps from a kitty with a thermometer in its mouth saying "Get well soon"; to a Transformer wishing me a "Happy 8th transformation"; to a fat woman in a tub and some joke about an anniversary. What are we saying here, Sarah? At least the singing Selena Gomez card was a bold choice.
Chapter IV: While not the most satisfying, this chapter is definitely the most assured. I can't say for certain why, but in all likelihood it's because this chapter consists of nothing but pages ripped out of the Bible and stapled together. Fortunately, Palin was mindful enough of the reader to highlight her favorite verses. She also includes some handy "Palin translations," which help the reader see why seemingly unrelated verses oppose homosexuality.
Chapter V: In the fifth and final chapter, Palin makes a conscious effort to remove herself from the soccer-mom/conservative-icon pigeonhole others have forced her into. I believe she accomplishes this by choosing to make up chapter five of nothing more than DVDs of Driving Miss Daisy, Golden Girls Season 3 Disc 2 and an NRA promotional video. Now that's how you go rogue.
In Conclusion: While encumbered by an overly polemic tone and far too many photos of Palin flipping off the reader while eating money, "Rogue" is nonetheless a satisfying and provocative read. I'm sure many critics will call this a "travesty" or "debacle" or an "abomination," but you know what? I'd rather have a book be a national punch line, than have it be yet another thing for assholes to reference in a douchey attempt to sound smart. Reading is gay. Ha, you're gay.
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I don't understand the animal with the american flag over its non-head and crab claws coming out of his ass. Sorry if I am drunk, but I had the sober guy look at it and he must be retarded too. Please explain. Thank you in advance.
Editor's Note: What do you mean "the sober guy"? Do you have a random sober guy follow you in the event of sober emergencies? If so, you have stumbled upon the greatest idea of the twenty-first century. The "designated driver" concept cleared the path, but this notion of a "designated exister" is quite advanced.
Imagine being able to stay blitzed through work, court dates and interactions with loved ones while your sober surrogate has to stand there and eat shit on your behalf. This makes the theory of relativity look like the goddamn pet rock. In fact, why am I still writing this? Take over, sober me.
"Oh... uh, okay. So... Charlotte, was it? You are a dummy. You probably have big earlobes and I bet your mom wears ugly shoes. Your email reveals a mind which is probably not among the top ten percent in the nation. Unless, of course, you weren't being serious. If this is the case-"
Oh, shut the fuck up! I just found the problem with this sober surrogate idea: Sober people fucking suck. I've worked too long and too hard to tarnish my reputation just to have some clear-headed pussy who considers the feelings of others fuck it up now. If I let this go on too long all the people I've alienated will think I might tolerate their presence.
Charlotte, you ignorant slut. I hope you are savagely raped by a jaguar in heat and the resulting half-cunt/half-jaguar baby eats your body from the inside-out, starting with your sex organs. Ahh... sweet alcohol-induced honesty.
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Between the Democratic donkey shirt and "Guess he Cant" it is too apparent you all are a bunch of conservative assholes. Yet another bunch of pricks piling on a guy trying to dig us out of this hole W spent 8 years digging.
But I guess i shouldn't be surprised. Who but a bunch of mean spirited conservatives would make and sell shirts celebrating misoginy and drinking and drugs??
Editor's Note: Mean-spirited people with no specific ideology, that's who.
For the billionth time, our shirts do not reflect our personal beliefs. Do you think every dime we make goes to pot, booze and casual sex? Of course it does, but only because we can't think of anything else to spend money on. What else do people spend money on? Do you have to pay to use trees or think about FDR?
I guess where leisure activities are concerned our shirts accurately represent the staff, but where our political beliefs are concerned they couldn't be more off the mark. Because we don't have any shirts that say "Giving a shit takes too much time" or "Voting is too expensive."
So the next time you want to criticize a company because of their product, take time to consider the possibility they don't give a shit what their product is as long as it's making them money. And if that still doesn't deter you, consider the fact that no one gives a shit about your opinion. And remember our motto: The customer is always incidental.
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From: Harlin W.
you need to make some shirts about meth it doesnt matter for or against i just want to see some meth jokes i could really use some where i live.
Editor's Note: As hard as this may be to believe, the "meth crowd" isn't exactly the ideal customer base. All of their money seems to be tied up in meth, bail, meth, last February's rent, meth, and carpet steamers (slang for meth).
Don't get me wrong, we would love to corner the "shirts-for-meth-addicts" market, but darn the luck, we don't offer a payment option for them. Maybe one day we will accept "neighbor's tricycle" or "uncomfortably intense blowjob," but until then we're going to have to reject your proposal.
But keep the completely unformed, intangible ideas coming. You'd be surprised how many of our shirts are the result of an email just like this one. Let me check my records... Turns out it's zero. Fuck off, Harlin.
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From: Nancy B.
I don't understand how a website such as this can even be legal. We have an organization that keeps filth off of our televisions and radios. But you and your customers can proudly parade around in shirts with f--- and s--- displayed for everyone to see. It is really quite shameful.
Editor's Note: As a socially responsible company, T-Shirt Hell could not agree more. Which is why we proudly announce the establishment of the FSC (Federal Shirt Commission). The FSC has been a labor of love for us and we have spent years creating and analyzing guidelines, studying the example of the FCC and learning from their mistakes.
Don't get me wrong, in theory the FCC is great. How can you not love an organization dedicated to stifling free speech and saving us from our own pathetic human brains, even if the FCC itself is made up of pathetic human brains? But in practice it is nothing more than a pillar of hypocrisy and ineffectiveness.
This is where the FSC will improve. Under FSC guidelines, you will be required to wear "beige torso sheaths." They may cause some discomfort after they have been sewn onto you, but your body will acclimate soon enough. And like the FCC, we want to give you the illusion of freedom. So if you absolutely must rebel against the establishment, you will be permitted to wear a patch that says "Cirrus Clouds," as exhaustive research and focus groups have proven this to be the least offensive term in the English language.
And, of course, you will be allowed to wear logos of any company you manage to make a deal with. As long as the FSC gets a taste. Oversight be makin' it rain on them bitches!
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[Sic Semper Fat Chicks]
A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Tough break, America. Fuck you Arkansas.