I am proud to say that I grew up in Worcester, Massachusetts, in the way a war vet might brag about Vietnam. Having grown up there, for me, is a badge of honor. My roots in Worcester ground me when New York, where I live now, distracts from what America really is.

You see, you spend too long in the liberal, cultured, mock utopian enclave of New York City, you risk forgetting the rest of the country. You risk being flabbergasted about the results of the 2004 election. Your mouth might go agape as the girl at the doughnut shop in your home town tells you, "No, we don't do soy lattés here." You might be surprised to find that the people you knew as kids are now hunting in the woods in their spare time.

In both extremes, there is absurdity that must, at all costs, be laughed off.

Ramshackle Skyline is an attempt to wring humor from the sick duality of contemporary America. Between the privileged, post-bohemian playground of New York City and the dismal, strip-malled landscape of suburbia, this is my lurid attempt to make jokes and, hopefully, make us look a little better in the process.

Ramshackle Skyline tees are high quality, American made goods. Because you can't be a self-righteous, blue state elitist and support foreign slave labor. And because as a small town, red-blooded guy, you might, at heart, want to buy American simply for its false jingoistic promise.

- Bradford O'Brien, guy in charge