Tom is your friend. He might have 45 million other friends on myspace, but you know you’re special. After all, his other friends don’t peer through his window at night and steal his underwear off the washing line.

You’d been chatting away to xx$*h0t_g1rl69*$xx for some time now and struck up somewhat of a rapport. So much so in fact you’d decided to meet. And as she squeezes through the double doors of the chic Italian cofee bar you thought you’d impress her with, you wonder what it was that attracted you in the first place. Not her taste in music or film. No. It was the fact that she took photos of herself in black lingerie at 45 degree angles in sepia.
But surely this is an infringement of the trade descriptions act!
She sits down.
The mind recoils in horror.
You hurl your mocha-latte-cino at the wall and mutter something about a bag of smashed crabs.

Commemorate the occassion with this shirt.