It seems like 12 Club members would have posts all up in here seeking to trade out unwanted limited edition shirts. I haven't seen any, though. So that leads me to believe 1 of 3 things: they don't happen; they do happen and I'm inattentive; they're not supposed to happen.

At any rate, I have Nautical Problem, designed by the esteemed buko, available in an XL.

It's never been worn. I opened the bag, held it up in front of the mirror, and said "that's a nice design, but it's not for me." And now I'm here. Peddling my wares. :/

I'd like to trade for Dead Pirates in an XL, but Reach For The Light is nice as well.

I apologize for my appalling ignorance of the social standard here, but I'd like to make a happy swap with someone.

There seems to be a little piece of poop between the lucky cat and the lucky seven. Is poop some forgotten, but potent symbol of wild luck? Or am I maybe mistaking it for something else?

(Please don't get me wrong. It's a lovely shirt. I'm just curious about this particular thing.)


EDIT!! It has come to our attention that the pile's not poop, but rather, it is a little pile of scratchings from the lucky seven (presumably scratched off by the lucky cat).

Just received the shirt yesterday and I gotta say, the design looks really good in person. But maybe it looks... too good?

My cat climbed up into my lap, but when she looked at the lion print, she flinched. She tried to investigate closer, but couldn't overcome her very real fear of a 20 inch lion print.

So good job, Keith. Your shirt scared a cat away from my torso. That's gotta be worth something.

After weathering the storm of positive comments and stone temple dart traps, I stand here triumphant with my last submission score and a bloodied stump where my brush pen used to be. But this week-long run for cover has not been without pain. Whereas I didn't used to smoke, I now consume eight casket-shaped cartons of "Olde Glasse Tobacco Stickes" per day and have bitten the fingernails on my left hand down to the second knuckle.

Now, sitting in a safehouse outside of Duluth, I await hearing whether my efforts have paid off or if a Threadless Strike Team is honing in on my location with a plane-load of giant enraged alligators (and a handful of free stickers).

The smell of the perpetually burning swamp to my left is overwhelming my thought processes, but I'm left wondering...

What's the best score that never became a t-shirt? What's the worst score to become a t-shirt? How do designers save their lungs and fingers during the arduous voting process?

Man... this whole t-shirt process is nerve-wracking. Before it's through, I'm gonna be looking at a wrack of nerves. It's only been a day since it was submitted and I'm worried about how it's gonna be received.

I wonder if other designers take this shirt business so seriously.