He’s got a mask. He’s got a gun. But he’s no bad guy. He’s just a lonely stranger trying to get by, wandering from garbage can to garbage can. No horse, no Indian sidekick, no silver bullets and lawman’s star. This fella moves at night, dressed only in his Boone-skin cap and a neckerchief he took off some hippie’s golden lab. He knows he’s cute. He knows he’s clever. But you can tell by his eyes. He’s not afraid of anything.

This shirt was designed by: James Cho. We have nothing funny to say about you any more, Cho. Nothing. You’re like a Roomba. You’re like a Sansa Media Player. We’ve written about you so many times that there’s nothing left. You’ve broken us, Cho. Just get out. You and that… that floozy.

Wear this shirt: if you’re a floozy of Cho. We’re actually thinking of making pendants that say “Floozy Of Cho” in gold. Well, plated. Well, foil.

Don’t wear this shirt: if you haven’t washed it yet. Preferably you’ll want to use moving water like a lake or stream. That’s the law of the west.

This shirt tells the world: “My name comes from Powhatan and Pocahontas!”

We call this color: John Brown’s Baby Has A Raccoon On His Chest

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