I trimmed it. I seasoned it. I bought the wood. I stood in the smoke for 14 hours while you drank my beer in the AC. The burnt ends are my tax. This shirt serves as a legally binding notice to all guests: Do not ask for the burnt ends. They never made it to the platter. They are currently in my stomach.
The #1 Rule of BBQ: Perfect for the host of the cookout. Wear this shirt to set boundaries with your guests and protect the most delicious nuggets of beef gold known to man.
