Loved everything except the prices being in American
I didn't have any friends. No upright ones at least. I was pathetic, dry, and alone. Worst of all, I was frequently told by passersby that I had the most repulsive fashion sense one had ever had the misfortune of witnessing. I always thought my monochromatic mustard-colored flannel shirt tucked into my hand-me-down pair of mauve acid-washed JNCO shorts helped me look like someone who really had it all together. Unfortunately I have learned over time that fashion is just one more thing (of many, many things) that I'm piss-poor at. This was until I discovered Horrible Noise. I came across his website accidentally, after spending a great deal of time searching for an economy-sized jar of extra crunchy Raisin Butter. I clicked the link for the Horrible Noise shop, saw a plethora of outstanding garb that could easily hide my soft, weak body, and knew my life would never be the same.
I ordered the "Very Danger" shirt. It couldn't have arrived sooner. This is not testament to Horrible Noise's shipping speed, but I had made a promise to myself to fast until my package arrived so that I would look boney and handsome for my first wearing experience, and even just two days without food or water starts to take a toll on one's psyche. Once it arrived, I broke free from the thin layer of crust that had solidified around my pathetic excuse for a physique, and rushed to the front door. I ran to it with such vigor, that I broke three toes in the process. But they were small toes, and I was a determined boy, so I took no notice.
Ah, the day had come. I put on my "Very Danger" shirt, and could feel my skin growing warmer. This was in part to having not worn a shirt all week in anticipation, however I'd like to believe my new shirt did have some level of mystical capability. Now wrapped in delicate, yet sturdy layer of cotton, equipped with a beautiful spread of Celeste Blue paint, shaped to form a rugged, badass demon's face with a sexy red tongue, I truly felt less alone in this world that is my dungeon. The words laminated on my new metaphorical suit of armor, "Very Danger", made me so tough that I ran out of my house, stole the nearest motorcycle I could find (it was an Outlaw Series 3-Wheeled Trike, and boy was it a force to be reckoned with) and have been on the lam since.
I am writing this review from a blood and feces-smeared $4 motel bathroom, and am truly risking my life by promoting any hint at my whereabouts, but the world needs to know the opportunity that this shirt has provided me. I no longer cower at the sight of other human beings, my underwear are so much less frequently soaked with urine, and I have the feeling that my parents will start speaking to me again any day now. Thank Horrible Noise for the beautiful impact you have had on my life, and mental health. I will love you forever, and one day I will find you.
Some guy who never knew what he was missing <3
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