“Uh-oh, Otis… Here’s another one for you!”

“Uh-oh, Otis… Here’s another one for you!”

Oh, crap. Here’s Aunt Norma’s present. Ugh, it’s the same thing every year. Yeah, I can feel it through the paper. Definitely another sweater. Why does she do this to me? Mom’s totally going to make me wear it to school, too. It’s like they both want me to get beat up as often and as thoroughly as possible.

“Open it, Otis! Let’s see what it is!”

Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s like a “Boy Named Sue” kind of thing, where I’m supposed to get tougher by wearing this hideous thing. Oh, god, look at this thing. It’s worse than last year.

“Ooh! Wow! Oh, that’s beautiful. Oh, Otis, you’re so lucky to have an aunt who does this for you. She works so hard on those. Ooh, I love the red color!”

Yeah, it won’t show the blood that spills from my broken nose.

“What do you say, Otis?”

“Thanks, Aunt Norma.”

This shirt was designed by: a crack team of Woot elves, happy little creatures who busily work and sing all year ‘round in their tiny workshop, creating gifts they’re sure you’ll enjoy.

And by “crack team”—yes, we mean they’re all completely out of their little brains on crack.

Wear this shirt: to the après-skateboard lounge, somewhere it doesn’t snow.

Don’t wear this shirt: to Mme Defarge’s house. It’s got a coded message in it that only she can read, denouncing you for crimes against the revolution.

This shirt tells the world: “I pick knits.”

We call this color: Hold This ThRed As I Walk Away

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