There's something about watching football and pounding a bottle of brown-bag quality scotch that makes a man's mind travel into strange, divergent directions. Maybe it's the 84-hours of Super Bowl pre-game, maybe it's Pat Summerall's slurring, or perhaps it's the odor of three-day of Michelob light, but it's a downward spiral into the pits of hell. Not the first levels of hell that houses Sonny Bono and Frank Sinatra, but deep deep down, in the bowls of bad taste.

Rome is burning and I'm playing the fucking fiddle.

Don't be afraid. . .the flames are reassuring. Why am I pissed? Is it the governement sanctioned explotation of poor ass no Dunkin Donut no porn shop havin' third-world countries that Americans with the ability to pay 12 cents an hour and a dream go to? Not quite. This poor clothing goes way beyond the 12-inch K-mart dicking has been digging to Indonesia. *NOTE, KATHY LEE I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON THAT COCK ONE DAY YOU FUCK* But right now you can't blame my outrage on the poor ass, I'm-selling-my-12-year-old-daughter-as-a-cum-receptacle-because-we-need-bread -money country and us in it. The fury I'm feeling is based (cue Neil Diamond) right here in America, TODAY!

Independant silk screeners and guys on the corner of 14th and Bumblefuck are selling shirts that commemorate September 11. NO, that wasn't the date Chandler and Joey double teamed Jennifer Aniston on a very-special episode of Friends. I'm talking about T-Shirts ladies and gentlemen. T-Shirts that have two buildings on it, or a date, or Bin Laden, or something like that.

It's a good thing I'm your moral superior. YOU NEED TO KNOW THIS.

People are actually wearing these fucking things and think that they're making a difference. The world is going to hell and everyone except Miss Cleo can see it. Although I talked to her yesterday and she said that my man's in jail and the baby's not his. It's fuckers wearing 9-11 T-shirts, to be blunt cement-head. "Gee Elly-Mae, I dunno know how to be patriotic? How about a tee-shirt." This is what it's come too. Cletus and mullet-boy have decided to wear commerative T-shirts to remember when a great atrocity had taken place. So let's remember this happy occasion by dropping 10 bucks for a shirt. "2,000 People were blown up and dismembered and all I got with this lousy t-shirt" Hey, i've got an idea, how about a T-shirt with two giant ovens on it that says, "Remember the Holocost." make sense? are you cringing? If you don't feel dirty for reading that then I hope you do mankind a favor and slit your throat with an AIDS-ridden rusty plastic butter knife.

This is righteous moral outrage. Revel in it.

Here's a quick moral barometer to determine whether or not your patriotism is misplaced: If you have detailing of the World Trade Center on the back of your pick'em-up-truck directly next to the picture of Calvin pissing on Dale Earnhardt, YOU'RE A DICK.

Oh yeah, before I forget, thank you America's celebrities! We couldn't do this without you. Nothing like the Backstreet Boys and N'Sync telling us to get together, wearing specialty Versaci 9-11 Shirts and lip-syncing. You are true Americans!

Feelin' Patrotic? Can't get Lee Greewood out of ya'head? Then donate money to the Red Cross. Make sure the charities are doing their job by checking on them. Go to your local Arab-American and give him a hug. Not everyone will see that. They don't have catchy phrases or their own theme music. But you'll help an infinite amount of more people than wearing a cheap-ass t-shirt bought from some fuck on the street. These are acts based on love, not jingoism.

I emplore every person in the whole world, the next time you -- yeah, I'm talking to you dick -- see someone wearing a 9-11 T-shirt or has 9-11 on the back of their car, kick them so hard in the testicles that they spit semen. If you don't, the terrorists win.

- back -