Degrading Abercrombie t-shirts

Forwarded on via some chappie named Bill:

A group of young women have organized to speak out against offensive and degrading Abercrombie t-shirts. I won’t even get into the fact that wearing anything by Abercrombie is inherently degrading. That’s a technicality. These women are specifically upset about the phrase, “Who needs brains when you have these” printed across the chest of a shirt. Another hotly contested shirt reads, “Give me something to scream about.” They feel the shirts are negative and demeaning to those who wear them. Okay, right there it can be concluded that at least half of these women are flat-chested in addition to being prudish harpies. Then Abercrombie tossed the dogs a bone and let them pitch their own t-shirt ideas to company
big-wigs. One of the ideas, which the women assuredly had ample time to concoct mind you; “Your book or mine?” Another idea, “You’re Just Jealous Because I have a 4.0.” Well alright, now we can conclude these women have no detectable sense of humor.

Based on my analysis, with a minimal chance of inaccuracy, I conclude that many of the women have humps on their backs. Most of them will seek refuge in their intellect in order to fill the void that would ordinarily be filled with booze and casual oral sex. They will alienate any men remotely interested in spending more than 15 consecutive minutes with them by
incessantly chattering about dubious academic achievements. Their personal downward spirals will ensue. By my calculations, at least one of them will shun her intellectual consortium and discover that with a couple pounds of make-up and and dim lighting, she is attractive. And upon more discovery, the amount of things she allows anonymous men to place in her orifices has a positive correlation with the level of interest she attracts in local pubs. Wishing to hit the big time, she packs up and goes to Central Illinois and joins a fledgling production house run by amateur pornographers. It is here she espouses opiates and is spit out of the bottom of the industry, but not before she is required to appear at a promotional event for her last film, “Turd Miner’s Daughter.” At the event she is required to wear a shirt that reads, “Give me something to scream about,” one of the very shirts she once protested!

Both the irony and the chorizo stuffed pasta at the said promotional event are absolutely delicious.

The End.