About me:
OFFENSIVE T-SHIRTS STICKER TITTY GIRLS COCAINE ENERGY DRINK
A New Fucking Age, Fuckers
Alright, here's the skinny: Foul Mouth Shirts kicks your ass and you love it. Granted, we enjoy kicking your ass just as much as you love getting it kicked, but that's a moot point. We're trying to sell you some fucking shirts, here....but we also wanna make you giggle in sadistic glee.
So, in a profound effort to get you fuckers off...I'm gonna start dancing my stupid little monkey dance for you. I'm gonna write some blogs on our Myspace, and you're gonna love 'em. Seriously. You fucking will.
Or fucking else.
Introductions are in order, I suppose. Sitting across from me is the Guru of Spunk. The Lord of Lewd, and the Master of all he Surveys. He shall only be referred to in such terms, for his name is so sacred and unholy that it's mere utterence will send fresh fucking baby souls to hell with screaming orgasmic corruption. He is the Fucking Foul One. The other guy running around is my heterosexual life-mate. His name will be withheld because of a few pending paternity suits (the ungrateful cunts), but we'll fondly refer to him as Captain Cuntbuster. The rank is for ego, and the cunt-busting is for fun. You might be wondering why we gotta use nicknames. Fuck you, I aint telling. Don't get mad at me and try to poison me, though. That would suck ass.
My name is Cannon. That's it. Nothing fucking special about me, other than the fact that I can spell and I don't go into epileptic seizures when I stare at a computer screen for too long.
The three of us don't really band together to fight crime...or assemble ourselves together to form a 50ft tall robot fucker, or anything. We just make shirts that piss off your girlfriend/boyfriend/boss/mamma/pappa/chosen diety.
Here's what you bastards and bastetes can expect from us here on out:
1) A few fucking blogs about shit I wanna say. Movies, news, my favorite cereal, the fat chick I made passionate fuck to last night, or whatever flavor of chewing gum I'm noshing on at the moment. You'll read it and you'll vibrate with joy. Or you won't. Fuck you.
2) Poor grammer and drunken rants. Cause that's how I roll, and my AA sponser can suckle my brown-eye if he don't like it.
3) Bad-ass t-shirts. It's what we fucking do. I REALLY hope you figured that part out already, cause if you havn't...than I'm really suprised you made it this far into the wide-world of internet culture already. Simply put....if you're a dumb-fuck, don't bother us.
4) A couple of newsletters a month. These little gems are gonna have bad-ass content. I dunno what it'll be yet, but...trust me...it'll be bad-ass. I am SO fucking organized, it blows my mind. Go to www.foulmouthshirts.com right now and subscibe to the newsletter, though, cause it'll have a discounted shirt special that you cheap fuckers out there are gonna wanna take advantage of.
5) We're gonna wave the flag of Free-Fuckin'-Speech whenever we can. It's the God-blessed fuckin' American right that let's us do what we do, and we aint gonna stand for anybody stepping on the toes of anyone who wants to say what they want when they want to say it. Fuck the media. Fuck you.
BONUS! If I get my way, the Captain and I are going to get an audio podcast going soonish. Maybe even video, so you drunk bitches can get all wet while you watch me and the Captain stare at a camera, stutter, and urinate ourselves. It'll be great. Good thing I lost the last bit of my pride during my crack-cocaine-fueled gay-porn stint.
Introductions are over, bitches. Return your seats to their previously upright possitions and quit blowing yourselves, 'cause I'm done. Subscribe to the blog. Subscribe to the newsletter. Fuck yourselves. - Cannon
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