T-Shirt I Glued My Balls To My Butthole Again black QR song

$29.90

Tax included.

Description

Scan this QR code cotton t-shirt and cue "I Glued My Balls To My Butthole Again", a howling ode to DIY disasters: our hero’s stuck in a sticky mess, balls barricading his butt like a scrotal cork. It’s a punk-rock plight: he’s yanking, stretching his sac to yard-long glory, cursing glue with “Oh my God!” shrieks. Picture his lady dumping him as he saws at his junk with a butter knife, face-down, ass-up, in a comedic cry for mercy. The song’s a twisted anthem of regret: fool me twice, blame the adhesive, not the idiot. A gut-busting ballad so wild, it’s like a fart joke and a tragedy had a baby. Scan it and wince!

The 100% cotton unisex classic tee will help you land a more structured look. It sits nicely, maintains sharp lines around the edges, and goes perfectly with layered streetwear outfits. Plus, it's extra trendy now!

100% cotton
Dark Heather is 50% cotton, 50% polyester
Fabric weight: 5.0–5.3 oz/yd² (170-180 g/m²)
Open-end yarn
Tubular fabric
Taped neck and shoulders
Double seam at sleeves and bottom hem
Blank product sourced from Honduras, Nicaragua, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Bangladesh, Mexico

Shipping Information

Orders are prepared for shipping within 1-3 business days. Once shipped, standard ground delivery typically takes 2-5 business days. Most orders arrive within 8 business days from the purchase date.

Proudly designed, printed, & shipped in the USA 🇺🇸 for US/Canada/Mexico orders

Proudly designed, printed, & shipped in the EU 🇪🇺 for EU orders

Print on Demand

This product is made especially for you as soon as you place an order, which is why it takes us a bit longer to deliver it to you. Making products on demand instead of in bulk helps reduce overproduction, so thank you for making thoughtful purchasing decisions!

QR song demo video

Scan the QR code and cue "I Glued My Balls To My Butthole Again", a howling ode to DIY disasters: our hero’s stuck in a sticky mess, balls barricading his butt like a scrotal cork. It’s a punk-rock plight: he’s yanking, stretching his sac to yard-long glory, cursing glue with “Oh my God!” shrieks. Picture his lady dumping him as he saws at his junk with a butter knife, face-down, ass-up, in a comedic cry for mercy. The song’s a twisted anthem of regret: fool me twice, blame the adhesive, not the idiot. A gut-busting ballad so wild, it’s like a fart joke and a tragedy had a baby. Scan it and wince!