The way I see it (ha), you’re born a cyclops, you can take it one of two directions. You can hide from yourself, try to fit in with the two-eyes, maybe even wear a falsie. Or you can take hold of that &$#@ with both hands and be the craziest one-eyed &$#@ anybody’s seen since that one episode of Pee-Wee’s Playhouse. So when I got to be a certain age, I was just like, screw it. I slapped on some Manic Panic, grew a gross little chin-beard, and stopped brushing my teeth. The pop-out trick came later – a simple matter of exercising that optic nerve. Now all the biclopes who made fun of me in school are buying my shirt. And the chicks, well…once they’ve had cyclops, they never go back.

This shirt was designed by: Anchovy, a St. Louis-based artist who enjoys a lovely chilled gazpacho on a summer day. We hope there aren’t any fish in that gazpacho, because that’d be like cannibalism. Email him at hamchovy@hotmail.com for the whole story.

Wear this shirt: and dig the L7 scene flippin’ out of its ever-lovin’ mind, dad.

Don’t wear this shirt: if you tool around in some lame grocery getter.

This shirt tells the world: “There’s only one ‘I’ in ‘monstrosity’.”

We call this color: Kustom Olive.

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