Ride on (comma) Freedom!

Best T-shirt ever, man:

I'm not even sure where to start. How about the sentence structure?

"Ride on Freedom"

Okay, so, we do know that this phrase is an imperative. Someone or something is being told to do something. It's times like this that insight into the shirt designer's working knowledge of commas would come in quite handy. Assuming he or she knows how to use commas, the omission of one here would indicate that the phrase is directed to the reader of the shirt, the motorcycle is named "Freedom," and the Statue of Liberty is showing you how to "Ride on Freedom." Assuming the artist doesn't know how to use commas correctly, we might read this as a directive to the embodiment of "Freedom" to "ride on." I'm going to run with this line of thought on this one, considering the choice of rider, the Mother of Exiles, is the ultimate symbol of freedom this world has ever known.  Well, her, and this guy:

Besides, people who buy shirts like this don't know crap about comma use, anyway, so I'm stickin' with this hypothesis.

Now, on to the picture itself.


IT'S THE STATUE OF FREAKIN' LIBERTY RIDING A HARLEY.


I assume it's a Harley, because we all know that any other motorcycle built by any other company is clearly the vehicle of commies, baby killers, queers, non-Christians, and people who support socialized medicine. I'm also assuming it's a GIGANTIC Harley, considering it's being ridden by a 151-foot-tall copper statue. It's a good thing she got those ape-hangers installed; I'm sure her arms needed a good stretch after 124 years of holding that pesky torch and that cumbersome keystone. I sure hope she traded in her sandals for some kick-ass harness boots, yo. 

Freedom Fightin' Shizzz Kickers

(By the by, Statue de la Liberté came from France, as you probably know. It's a safe bet that the majority of right-wingers, Republicans, Focusers on Your Family, et. al., don't know this, or she would have been kicked to the curb way back in '02. Forget the fact that we wouldn't have ever won the Revolution without France's help, either, but I digress.)

I'm guessing that in order to get that 91,100cc hog across the water, they leveled the top couple of decks off a Stanton Island Ferry and muscled this great cycle of Democracy over to Liberty Island, where The Big Metal Momma did a badass front flip off her pedestal, moonwalked over to the bike, pulled up her scaffolded skirts, and threw a leg over the Old Gloryfied tank of her new Star-Spangled sled. Peter Fonda was there, I'm sure, a tear glistening in his eye as he meditated on how much good he had done in this life by once straddling his own American flag chopper and setting off a wave of wholesome, conservative patriotism in the hearts of youth from sea to shining sea.

R.I.P., Billy

But was our fair Coppertone Girl going to take the sissy way back across the water, on the backside of some pansy-ass boat? Heck no. Now I wasn't there, but my sources inform me that at this point, she reached down, picked up that modified ferry, and slammed its bow deep into the grass of Liberty Island, forming the world's most treacherous and terrorist-frightening kicker ramp of all time. After gunning the short run-up, hitting that ramp and blasting the crap out of the airspace above New York Harbor, she busted a double-back-flip Carolla nac-nac before touching down in Battery Park like a down feather in a sunbeam. She was overheard saying, "If I hadn't powered down that sick burrito from Pedro's right before takeoff, I know I coulda blasted that thing all the way into Afghanistan or wherever and kicked the dick off that King Hussein bin Laden!!! EXTREME!!!"

siiiiiiiiiiick.com

I can honestly say I've never felt closer to our Founding Fathers, Sarah Palin, or the X-Games.

These Colors Don't Run Without the Key