Found on a Tag Inside a Discarded Shirt Hanging from a Chain-Link Fence in the Back Streets of the South Side.



  1. Caren says:

    Sounds delicious.

  2. Sean says:

    Everyone always forgets the Andorran sweatshop workers.

  3. Scuba Joe says:

    I discarded this shirt with disgust on said fence because I felt the instructions weren’t confusing enough.

  4. Robert St. Agamemnon-Fargy says:

    I’ve learned to read these instruction tags, tedious though they be, after accidentally washing my wife’s “dry clean only” silk pants in the washing machine. They came out looking like a pair of large blue sausages held together by some sort of harness.

    Despite the fact that her reaction to this mishap might be described as “overblown” and “extreme,” it had little or nothing to do with our subsequent estrangement and divorce. Really.

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