No fluff. No filters. Just two dogs, a dead bird, and a couple of shotguns leaning in the grass like God intended. This shirt ain’t about fashion—it’s about instinct, recoil, and an ice-cold beer after a clean shot. It’s for the ones who rise before the sun, track through mud, and crack cans with blood on their hands. You don’t wear this to look good. You wear it because you’ve earned the dirt on your boots and the chill in your chest. Coors in the veins. America in the soul.
