As you can clearly see, glasses rock. In fact, they';ve always rocked. Because you know most rock stars weren';t born cool. They were geeks, weirdos and outcasts. Some of them probably started out singing in choir or playing the trumpet in marching band. (And there';s a good reason most rock songs don';t have a trumpet solo in the middle.) Some of their yearbook photos were like "before" pictures for corrective orthodontics. And they kept diaries about how bad life sucked and how they just want to get the ';eff out of this podunk town. But that alienation gave them plenty of time to explore their geeky talents and interests. And lo and behold, they became cool and famous! Nice little bit of poetic justice there. So where we were again? Ah, yes. Glasses rock.

How';s this for a mashup? She looks great in 8-bit, don';t you think? Yellow jumpsuit and all. Perhaps her samurai sword isn';t quite as sharp, but hey, this ain';t no Xbox 360. Of course, the fight scenes might be a little different in this version. Instead of battling sadistic schoolgirls and trained assassins, it';s just an endless flow of hapless goons in purple vests coming at her one at a time. On a looooong-ass hallway. And instead of tracking down her mortal enemy, she gets to save some random girl named Sylvia. Ever notice how the mission in all those early games was always to save a girl or a princess? Seems a bit sexist, don';t you think? That damsel-in-distress thing is just so played out. What you need is a damsel kicking ass! (Like this.)

Many people know about the Teddy Roosevelt of high school textbooks. The exuberant personality. The pioneering conservationist. The "leather daddy" mustache. But here are some facts about our 26th President that you may not know. Roosevelt';s trademark Windsor glasses had stereoscopic lenses, allowing him to read legislation in 3D. The Bull Moose Party was originally called the Cheesy Beefy Supreme Party Shortly before giving a speech in Milwaukee, Roosevelt was shot in the chest by a would-be assassin, yet famously went through with the 90-minute speech before seeking medical help. Ironically the speech was about the need to seek prompt medical attention for chest wounds. Despite being hailed as a conservationist, Roosevelt personally hunted several animal species to extinction, including the Tasmanian tiger, the Caribbean monk seal and a lost tribe of living Neanderthals discovered in a cave in the Andes. "Teddy" was not short for Theodore but rather Tedderick.

Hi guys! Great party you got here. I especially love the way you';re selling beer for $2. And I';ll bet you don';t even have a state liquor license, huh? Ha! Good times. Say, I have a question. I';d like to buy some drugs. Do you know where I can find some? Yup, I sure do love drugs. In fact, nothing makes me happier than smoking a big, fat pile of illegal drugs. If you could point me to the person who might be "holding" said drugs, I';d sure be grateful. Because I';m totally "jonesing" right now. I need to get my "fix" so I can go drive my vehicle recklessly or jump off the roof of a building because I think I can fly. I';m sorry, the music is interfering with our audio -- I mean conversation. Could you speak more clearly and into my chest? Oh, the drugs man is just outside that door that says "Exit No Reentry?" OK cool, I';ll see you guys in a few! And maybe when I come back we can all get "iced out" on some grass.

California isn';t for everyone. If you grew up in the fast-talking, fast-walking east coast, it might seem like another planet. A planet where nothing happens on time, everyone wears yoga pants, and it';s impossible to get a good bagel. But if you';re focused on how long your fair-trade latte is taking, you';ve probably missed the fact that it';s 75 degrees outside with no humidity. Or that you can be on the beach one minute and the slopes the next. Or that the bomb-ass Mexican food more than makes up for the bagels. Or that people don';t care about what you';re wearing because... Oh right, because who gives a shit? It';s not that we don';t take anything seriously. It';s just that we take fun things seriously.

Welcome back to This American Wilderness. Today we';re talking about the great white buffalo, known to many naturalists as "the one that got away" because of its elusiveness. Here';s a rare shot of one! As you can see, she has separated herself from the herd and is grazing on the other side of the fence, tantalizingly close but yet so far. This commentator once encountered a great white buffalo. She was a Russian exchange student named Pavlina. She took a shine to this commentator, not seeming to care what a nerd he was. This commentator gathered what little courage he had and was set to ask her to the prom, only to have varsity linebacker Kyle McAllister sweep her up before he could. When last this commentator checked on Facebook, Pavlina was grazing in Midtown Manhattan with her investment-banker husband and three spoiled calves. Kyle McAllister was a bouncer.

Thanks for coming in, Mr. and Mrs. Carter. This "crayon incident" is just the latest in a string of troubling behavior with Shawn. For starters, he';s been very aggressive on the basketball court at recess. So aggressive that we';re considering a stiff punishment. Now, I don';t want to alarm you, but is there any history of schizophrenia in the family? The other day he said his name was "Michael." When I asked who Michael was, he wouldn';t elaborate. Instead, he gave me three options to choose from. Very strange. And then there';s this obsession with Paris. Has he ever been to Paris? He sure seems to think he has. Look, I';m not saying there aren';t bad influences on Shawn. His friend, Kanye, seems to be a trigger. We try not to let them "get in that zone" together, but there';s only so much we can do. Right now, they';re definitely "in that zone."

Are you going "gonzo" trying to find the perfect shade of blue? Or maybe need a sharp red that reflects your "animal" side? Are you going to "rowlf" if you don';t find that exact shade of brown? Stop torturing yourself! Our new Muppantone Color System ensures that you';ll get the perfect color combination for every room in the house! Perhaps you want a Kermit vibe for the guest room. We';ve got you covered! Want to accent the trim with a splash of Piggy? Our standardized matching system ensures the perfect pink every time! We can even coordinate a Fozzie Orange! What are you waiting for? Turn your house into the singing slapstick playground you';ve always dreamed of! Our color system comes in glossy, matte or felted finish.

"Kill ';em with kindness." The Dalai Lama may not have actually said this, but it pretty much boils down his philosophy. And we think it';s a great mantra. Because let';s face it, there are more jerks out there now than ever. Thanks to the Internet, any jackass can spew whatever unsolicited rant he or she wants under the cozy shelter of anonymity. And it';s not just the nitwits on the fringe. We';ve all been guilty of the occasional surly email. Basically, technology has made us a society of unaccountable d-bags. But who says we have to be? Next time someone';s being an ass to you, try responding in the kindest possible way. You';ll see, it really screws with their head. And unless they';re just a lousy person, they';ll probably be left feeling petty and embarrassed. And wondering what the hell your secret is.

Sure, you';ve seen a squirrel playing a banjo before. But what about a squirrel playing an electric banjo? Now that';s something new! This guy';s all plugged in and ready to go. Check out that half-stack. I mean, to us it might not be much, but to a squirrel that thing is a wall of sound! I wonder, do you think his "folk purist" fans are pissed that he went electric? Kind of like when Bob Dylan got harassed when he showed up with a rock band at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965? Maybe the squirrel';s fans would start booing and throwing acorns. Something tells me he wouldn';t mind if that happened. It';s a new era. It';s time to rock. If the rest of the world isn';t ready for that yet, then so be it. In 20 years time, this will all seem tame. And the world will look back and see him as an innovator.

Ahoy, mateys! Feast your deadlights on the Great Seal of the Pirate! Ye landlubbers of the USA have an eagle on yer seal. But what self-lubbin'; swashbuckler would let an eagle perch atop his shoulder. H';arrrr! Even ye most logwood-brained scurvydog knows that the pirate';s signature bird be the parrot! And ours be havin'; his own eyepatch! Yer eagle be holdin'; an olive branch in his talon? Cacklefruit! What use be a savage buccaneer havin'; for a symbol of peace? Behold instead, the pirate cutlass! And what else yer eagle be holdin';, a bundle of arrows? What forrrrrr? Ye can';t run a shot across the bow with an arrow! For that, ye need the pirate';s barker of choice, the flintlock musket! And of course we be toppin'; off his shield with the age-old mark of freebooters everywhere -- ye ole Jolly Roger! He';s even missin'; a few teeth. Because what self-lubbin'; pirate has all his teeth? Damn yer eyes!

It';s the Battle of the Ages! You can cut the tension with a knife. The challenger, representing all of humankind, has been talking a lot of smack leading up to tonight. He appears confident -- some say a little too confident -- but then that';s the hubris of man for you. He';ll certainly have his hands full tonight going up against the undefeated champion. Speaking of the champ, there he is, bounding towards the ring! He';s put on some weight since his last fight, and some say he might be getting complacent. But perhaps that';s understandable given his total domination of the field. As we break down the numbers, the challenger has the edge in reach and opposable thumbs, while the champion has the clear advantage in height and footwork. We';ll have to see if he can avoid the low blows he was warned about in his last fight.

We';re not judging or anything, but don';t you think it';s a little weird that the Canadian flag has a pot leaf on it? I mean, sure, they';re known to be a little more socially liberal up there. But still, that';s kinda ballsy. I suppose it makes sense though. The drug laws in Canada are pretty loose. Ever hang out in Vancouver? It';s like being in a cleaner version of Amsterdam. Actually, we don';t know that because we';ve never been there. But we';ve heard stories. Anyways, the point is that it';s not like Texas, where I think if you get caught with a joint you basically get the electric chair. Still though, a marijuana leaf on a national flag? That';s bananas. What';s that now? It';s a maple leaf? What the hell';s a maple leaf? Are you stoned right now?

Maybe it';s time we "Ctrl Z" it back to the days of typewriters. Sure, computers and tablets are great, but nothing will ever replace the aesthetic of an old-fashioned typewriter. And there';s nothing as satisfying as hitting the keys and hearing that "whack" of the typebars slamming against a clean sheet of paper. ("You';re the man now, dog!") I mean, really, what would we miss? Facebook? Email? The Internet? Does anyone really still use those things? I feel like they all kind of came and went. Sure, they were fun while they lasted, but it';s time to move forward. Or, more I should say, time to move backward. Sure, there may be some practical challenges in switching to a typewriter-based workplace. But we';ll cross that bridge when we come to it. And just imagine all the jobs we';ll create in the ink-ribbon industry! Telling you, typewriters.

Look at this fancy pants! You just don';t see rats dressing up anymore these days. So often they';re just rummaging through your trash. This guy';s old fashioned though. He appreciates the finer things in life, like a spread of fruits and artisan cheese. That';s not to say that you necessarily want a rat eating your cheese, no matter how dapper he may be. But if you should happen to accidentally leave out some finely aged Camembert or Gruyere, you can take comfort in the fact that the quality will not be lost this guy. Yes, he';s a dying breed. A true gentlerat. Kind of makes you wonder. Like, where does he find that tiny monocle and dress hat? Or that little cane and those dress shoes?

These days, there are a lot of wolf t-shirts making a lot of promises. Superpowers for attracting the opposite sex. Transformative spiritual journeys. Even the ability to look good in moccasins. But none can offer what we have. And that is a wolf riding a horse towards the moon, which also has a wolf inside of it! I mean, that';s just something you don';t see every day. I, for one, didn';t even know that wolves and horses got along. You';d think they';d be natural enemies. And for good measure, we also threw in your classic lone-wolf-howling-at-the-moon guy at the bottom. It';s kind of like an added bonus at this point. So look, we can';t promise that you';ll suddenly become some sort of shaman when you wear this shirt, or that indigenous peoples will start saying "hi" to you on the street. But we can promise that you';ll look amazing in it. (I mean, face it, that color scheme looks incredible against your skin.)

Oh sure, we "landed on the Moon." Riiiight. Just like 9/11 was an "Al Qaeda job" and Jimmy Carter "wasn';t" an alien reptile sent to destroy us. Come on, people! It was clearly staged in a Hollywood studio. Why? Think about it. It was the height of the Cold War. We had to trick the Russians into thinking we were ahead of them. But while the smoke and mirrors might have fooled a massive, paranoid superpower like the USSR, they';re no match for the mind of a wild-eyed conspiracy theorist. See, everyone was in on it. The President, the astronauts, the scientists, mission control, the filmmakers, their wives -- everyone. So why have none of them come forward? Because if there';s one thing people are good at, it';s keeping secrets. Especially big, juicy, Earth-shattering secrets. But what about all those Moon rocks the astronauts brought back? Ah ha! Strike three! Everyone knows the moon is made of cheese, not rocks. Show me some Moon cheese and we';ll talk.

Brrrrr! Did someone leave the door open? Oh, it';s just you, Iceman! You';ve got that icy-cool confidence. Some people think you';re cocky. But hey, you back it up. You put on a clinic every time you go out there. And you expect nothing but the best from those around you. The last thing you want is some hotshot cowboy jeopardizing the mission. And you';re not afraid to tell ';em that. In fact, sometimes you don';t even need to say anything. Sometimes all you need to do is smack your teeth together really hard for emphasis and leave it at that. But once someone proves themselves worthy, you';re a fiercely loyal friend. Hell, they can be your wingman anytime. Oh, and you look incredible playing shirtless beach volleyball.

You notice how there are no inventors anymore? What';s with that? Back in the day, inventors ran shit. Alexander Graham Bell gave us the ability to communicate instantly. The Wright Brothers ushered in the age of human flight. Thomas Edison ended the tyranny of night with electric lighting. They changed humanity forever. Now what do we got? ShamWows, sleeved blankets, and millions of excuses to futz around with your iPhone. "Ah, the iPhone!" you say. "There';s an invention!" Eh. Maybe. It';s still a phone. Look we';re not saying the ShamWow guy doesn';t have a weird charisma to him. I think we can all agree on that. But let';s face it, he';s no Orville or Wilbur. Just saying, we would be very surprised to see him on a commemorative state quarter.

What the world needs now is love, sweet love. Eh. Maybe. But what the world really needs now is loot, sweet loot. So we at Headline Shirts propose that from now on, all of English-speaking society should substitute the word "loot" for "love." Make no mistake, this will be a massive undertaking. Just think of all the pop songs, movies, public monuments and sappy greeting cards that use the term love. All of them will need to be changed. The expression "Love thy neighbor" will now be "Loot thy neighbor." Love Park in Philadelphia will become Loot Park. The song "All You Need Is Love" will have to be re-recorded to say "All You Need Is Loot." (Who';s going to do that? Ringo?) But even with all these technical challenges, we think it';s totally worth it. We need to get into a "looting" frame of mind. (And not just when the Lakers win the championship.) We must never forget: Loot conquers all!

And here we have a cock as it was meant to be seen -- in 3D! Just look at the way it jumps off the screen! Wait, what are you all laughing at? Oh. I see. You';re snickering at the word cock. Sigh. Rooster, people! I meant it as in rooster! Like a chicken? You know, you should really get your head out of the gutter. Might just learn something one of these days. Anyway, as I was saying, here we have the co -- er, rooster -- in 3D. Just look at the way it jumps off the screen! Why a rooster, you may ask? Why not, say, a tiger or a shark? Booooooring! That';s so obvious. A rooster is something you don';t expect. Therefore, it has the element of surprise. Also, chickens are the most direct relatives to dinosaurs. It';s true! You ever pay attention to how a rooster walks? They';re basically like mini T-Rexes. Except with a beak and feathers. Anyway, roosters are awesome.

If Hunter S. Thompson were to come back to life as an animal, we think he would be a giraffe. We';re really can';t explain why -- it just seems to fit. Something about a giraffe';s face and weird appearance just says "Gonzo" to us. And they both have kinda jittery personalities. Plus, they obviously both like to get high -- ha! (OK, dumb joke.) So here we have "Hunter S. Giraffe." This guy looks ready for a psychedelic roadtrip across the savanna! Maybe he';ll hop in his convertible with his sidekick/lawyer baboon, all the while fighting off visions of bats as the ether and mesculine take effect. But are the bats real or imagined? This is the wilderness, after all. I guess there';s no point in mentioning the hyenas. Poor bastard will see them soon enough.

Oui oui, huh huh! Et bonjour! I am zee French bulldog! I am not like zee English bulldog, non non! English bulldog is -- how you say? -- big and slow. Zey have big heads and -- what is zee word eeeeh -- slobbery mouth! Zey eat too many fish and chips, huh huh! Me, I am cute. People, zey all love me. I am also not like zee -- how you say? -- American bulldog. American bulldog he spend his whole life working. I am French, vee do not see zee point of the working so much. No no! Vee drink zee wine and eat zee cheese and have the fun! Some people call me zee "toy bulldog." HA! "Toy bulldog," you say? I spit on zis. Could a toy bulldog do zis? You see zat? I blow zee smoke rings in perfect circle.

Here we have a brief timeline of lighting technology throughout history. As you can see, our early ancestors used one of the most basic forms of lighting, the torch, to free them from the blindness of night. It was not until around 400 A.D. that the first candles were used. They would remain the primary form of man-made lighting for centuries. In the late 18th Century, oil lamps came into vogue -- using whale oil, and later kerosene. Of course, the greatest single advancement in lighting technology was the first light bulb in 1879. Since then, humans further improved upon this invention to make electric lighting safer, brighter, and more efficient. That is, of course, until 2012, when it all went to shit, as foretold by the Mayans. So now we';re back to the torch thing. Speaking of which, why the hell am I even here talking to you about this? I should be scavenging for rations in the rubble of a former Walmart. Or killing zombies. Anything but this.