I first got this shirt 6 weeks ago and I feel like I've been in a Budweiser commerical ever since. The three wolves compliment the the two wolves with a stary night sky I had painted on my 1986 bullet gray Camaro. When I wear it, I feel the power of Thor's Hammer, the justice of Ra's light, and hunger of 27 Metal Gods combined! Praise Jesus!

As with my Grandma, she hasn't been good the past few years, but I truly beleive this shirt will save her soul. It all happened when she got out of prison last week. Her eyes filled up with while she was on bedrest. She looked at me and said, "Jerramiah, in Soviet Russia we had no bread, no vodka. At nights we kill comrade scum for supplies. I can still hear the wolf calls. The masterpiece on your chest reminds me of them, and I now truly feel happy."

I then used the shirt to dry my Nana's tears. Then only dilemma I have is that her dying wish is to be buried with the shirt. And honestly, I don't want her to have it, ITS MY SHIRT! So I'm just gonna tell her its okay, but I'll still keep the shirt. Besides, she won't know when she's dead.