This sweatshirt doesn’t whisper. It growls, snarls, and possibly bites. “I’m Feral” isn’t just a mood — it’s a medical condition. No manners, no shame, no leash. If you're foaming at the mouth, crawling on all fours, and humping the leg of life itself, this one's for you. You're not just a little unwell — you’re clinically disgusting in the hottest way possible. You eat cold spaghetti in bed, bark during sex, and your idea of flirting is making prolonged eye contact while chewing on a pillow. Hygiene? Optional. Decency? Dead.
Wearing this is a warning and a kink. It's giving "I haven’t slept in 3 days and I’ll dry hump your couch." It’s not cute, it’s not quirky — it’s unwashed, deranged, and violently horny. If you’ve ever been kicked out of a Denny’s barefoot at 2AM, congrats. You are the moment. You are feral. And this is your fucking uniform.
Disclaimer:
By purchasing or using any product from Super Silly Company, you acknowledge that we are purveyors of absurd novelties, not your legal counsel, financial advisor, or that one cousin who claims to "know a guy." Super Silly Company, its employees, and the office gremlin who keeps stealing our pens shall not be held liable for any consequences arising from your use of our products, including but not limited to: sparking government surveillance, igniting barstool arguments, or causing your grandma to choke on her dentures. Our goods are designed for shits and giggles, not courtroom dramas, so don’t come knocking if your purchase lands you in hot water or a viral shitstorm. Proceed at your own risk, you delightfully unhinged customer.
