by Brad MacDonald
So I’m out in Montreal on a date feeling pretty damn good. My arms look huge and I can tell that my variety of gold chains are eye-catching and well-chosen. But as I stepped out of my 26 inch rimmed Hummer, turned off my Black Eyed Peas album, screamed out “What’s Poppin’!” Kevin Federline style (people say we look and act alike) to the other VIPs entering the nightclub and publicly and forcefully slapped the ass of my girl, something felt, I don’t know, “off.” It’s like, you know when something isn’t good? Like the opposite of that?……Oh, I got it!: Not good. Anyway bro, something was lacking and, on top of that, I suddenly see my sworn enemy Rauf checking out my special lady. Sure, her dress was short. And yes, her vagina was extremely visible. But that didn’t give Rauf any right to leer at her with his skunk eye. His punk ass was going down.
Anyway, so I grab Rauf and I start railing into him. I’m using a series of combination punches to the head and kidneys. I’m saying some horrible things about his mother. All well and good? No my friend. Not good. Not well. And not and. I felt self-conscience. Like when your conscience tells you you’re still awake. And you know why? Cause as Rauf’s blood was spraying upon my tight t-shirt, I realized how “safe” my outfit was. Plain white T. Blue Jeans. God, it was boring. No spark or growl. Sure, an angry mob of drunk people were chanting “Kill that motherfucker Dwayne!”, my date was impressed, and the bouncers at club Poutine Sex Knife 4000 told me to come right in, but I knew then and there that it was time to start making some drastic fashion changes.
What I really wanted were clothes that reflected my personality: Angry, no-nonsense, needlessly aggressive, prone to kicking shit, blackmarket seller of stolen organs. This was me. This is who I was and who I am. I needed shirts and pants and accessories that told the world, “If need be, I have no problem punching your grandmother and/or child in the face.” I didn’t want a new wardrobe, I wanted a new WAR-ROBE. You know what I’m saying? Even if you don’t, it doesn’t matter to me cause I could destroy you bro. Feel my delts. If people ever say, “You smelt it, you dealt it,” to me, I just say thanks. Cause I did “delt it,” in that my deltoids are fucking amazing.
So I started searching for some new duds. I asked my friends on the Blackmarket Organ Sellers discussion board, “Dudes, where can I get some ballin’ new gear”? I_got_your_kidney123 immediately told me to check out http://www.edhardy.com. I knew I could trust that dude cause he once tipped me off about a lucrative liver opportunity. So I go onto the site and my jaw hit the floor. Literally. Here’s the best of the best of what I found along with my own descriptions about what makes these items so damn cool.
TIGER KNIT RHINESTONE BUTTON DOWN VEST
So my friends and I always used to think that vests were for wussies. Then this baby changed my mind. I’ll never forget the first night I wore it.
I greased up my hair, sprayed on some AXE, slipped on this sweet vest (with no shirt needed underneath of course) and headed over to my friend Tork’s place for some pre-game jaggerbombs. When I first walked in, Tork immediately said, “Nice vest douchba…” He never got to finish that last word. We’ll never know what he was going to say. Why? Cause while he was shooting his mouth off, I spun around to reveal the back of this gnarly piece of fabric. I swear to God, Tork instantly fainted. Word to the wise, never look directly into the eye of a rhinestone decorated tiger emblem, especially if that emblem is embroidered on the back of a vest. Turned out, Tork soon came to and we had a great night (I shot cocaine off of the face of this passed out girl at the club. So comical!) but Tork was never quite the same. Eye of the Tiger baby. Eye of the Rhinestone Tiger.
PANTHER COLLAGE ALL OVER SPECIALTY TEE
I know what you’re thinking: Can I pull this off? No, but your girlfriend can when she sees you in it! Cause she’ll be attracted to you….get it? HAHAHHAHA HHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAH. Oh, man, let’s get serious. This one is strictly causal wear. Actually let’s just call the panther collage T, business casual. When would I wear this? Probably when I’m just relaxing with the boys watching the Fast and the Furious 2: Too Fast, Too Furious. I know what you’re thinking, “Dwayne, do you watch that movie every night?” And the answer is YES. And you know why? One word: Rewatchability. I see something new every time. And that is the kind of philosophy I want when it comes to my Ts. Sure, they should all be tight around the pecs, definitely they should each feature a threatening animal who is about to pounce, but they should also offer something more. This shirt has got it., in that, like FF 2, I see something new everytime.
It took me 2 and a half years to notice the Siamese twin dragons at the bottom going in opposite directions. Why are they going in opposite directions? They probably had a fight. I know what that’s like. Susie dumped me despite my new fashion sense. No biggie. A man doesn’t cry or show emotion or respond to the facial expressions of others – a real man should be slightly autistic you know what I mean? Anyway, Susie and I are kind of like those two flaming dragon heads going in opposite directions only, in reality, I would be a bigger and more destructive dragon cause my delts are huge. In conclusion, this T is stylish and made from 100% cotton.
DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR POPLIN CLASSIC BUTTON DOWN
Alright, so you are going to your special lady’s house for dinner to meet her parents and you want to make a good impression (I miss you Susie, take me back). You want to show them that you are an honorable, upstanding citizen of the Earth, like John Mayer only cool. And with a slight smaller head. Fuck man, that guy’s head is huge. I bet even dogs are confused by it. Anyway, so you want to make a good impression and let her folks know you’re a keeper? Put on this Death before Dishonor button up. Problem solved.
Firstly, it has got buttons so it is pretty refined. And B) It displays an important message. When I first met Susie’s parents, her Mom asked me if I would like to have some country crock on my tea biscuits and I immediately said, “My shirt says Death before Dishonor. So what do you think!?” Her Mom looked pretty frightened for a while but I could tell she respected me after that. Anyway, you want to make your mark but you also have to have some control in situations like that. It’s chaos vs. control baby and chaos + control x tenacity = power. I learned that from the Fast and Furious series. So what do I mean by control? Well, this shirt is powerful and chaotic but it also knows when to say enough is enough. For example, while the back of the shirt is a fucking shit parade of awesomeness, the front has only two small, tasteful pirate skulls with knifes through them. Nothing more, nothing less. See what I mean? It’s called moderation and while you might always want to go 100%, full throttle all the time, you don’t want to end up putting your girlfriend’s parents in reverse choke holds just to show them that you can. Cause that isn’t polite.
MORTAR HOWITZER LAPTOP MESSENGER BAG
This guy once asked me, “Hey Dwayne, do you have the latest version of Windows Vista? And how much ram does your PC have?” I immediately kicked that nerd in the testicles. I could care less about computers. I can’t see the difference between an Atari home gaming system and a personal computer. It’s all just computer chips and shit. No man, I like my chips with some sour cream and onion on them. HAHHAHAHHAH AHHAHAHHAHAHH AHAH AHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHH AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHH
Irregardless, this bag means business. As you can see it is depicting the beginning of a war (perfect for my WAR-ROBE) and there is really no way to tell who is going to prevail in this epic battle between angry skeleton heads. I know you’re thinking, “Dwayne!, make a prediction you fucking pansy!” But I won’t cause if you look closely, you can see that the two sides are very evenly matched. I wonder what they are fighting over? Probably oil. Most wars are fought over oil. Probably about 83%. Kind of makes you think. Makes me think about 9/11. Everyone knows that 9/11 was a conspiracy (what, you didn’t know that??!) and I, like most people, have developed my own theory as to what happened. When I’m working on this, I usually take my notes with me in this sweet bag. After years of study, I feel like I’m getting close to a breakthrough. The only question that remains?: Who put the King of Belgium up to it? Only time, and my own hard work, will tell. This bag is hand stitched and made from durable nylon.
I was at the movies once with my girl, heading to see Transformers 2. Unreal movie by the way. Lots of explosions, lots of metal stuff, lots of entertainment. Good god, if you would have told me that Optimus Prime’s armour could hold even more guns, I would have tombstone’d you or used a Goro Mortal Kombat finishing move. But Transformers 2 made it happen. When I saw it, I just started crying and whispering “Michael Bay is God” over and over again. And get this straight man, I NEVER cry. When my little brother Dick Hickey (that was a nickname I gave him) died a horribly painful death in a grease fire at the age of 9, I didn’t shed a tear. “Serves him right,” I said, “Maybe now he’s learned his lesson. He needed to be toughened up a little bit. He was always too soft.” And my Mom said, “Learned his lesson!? Dwayne, he’s dead!!” I felt a bit bad after that so I said, “Well Mom, at least Dick Hickey chose DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR!” then I spun around super fast to show her the back of my Death before Dishonor shirt cause I was wearing that one at the time. It was awesome.
Anyway, where was I?, oh right, so I’m at the movies and I see these guys swearing loudly, shoving through the lines and hollering out filthy sexual references to attractive girls and I thought, “What do these guys have that I don’t?” The answer was a radical collection of sparkly hats featuring a bunch of bad ass pictures of skulls and animals and shit. Shortly after, I immediately went online and bought this baby. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out what that purple orb is. My best guess is that it is a portal to another dimension and another time. Possibly the Mesolithic era. I once convinced Dick Hickey that our mom’s jam pantry was a portal to Super Mario World. After he ran in, I slammed the door shut and forced it closed by putting a chair under the knob. Hickey was trapped in there for two and a half weeks. It was hilarious. Sure, the doctors said he would have died due to lack of food had he not consumed so many of Mom’s strawberry preserves, but I think it made him a stronger person. Kind of like when Mario eats a mushroom and grows bigger and more powerful, that’s like Dickey Hickey when he ate those bottles of jam.