The Fanny Pack Hat

It’s 11:27 am.

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You wake up in your hastily hung hammock in your bedroom with a Mad Magazine on your lap.

Your eyes pop open but your vision is somewhat blurry from the night before.

You quickly crinkle aside the magazine to reveal your still in the same clothes from the party the night before: a comfortable white muscle shirt emblazoned with a brightly colored screen print of a dump truck that reads “BIG JOHNSON CONSTRUCTION COMPANY, APPLY BELOW” and some righteous neon blue shorts.

You hop out of the hammock and into the mountain of empty light beer cans below.

Your vision gets a little clearer as you wade through the sea of cans, the smell of stale beer wafting into your nose.

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You see your favorite poster in front of you: a smoking hot babe posing next to the Porsche of your dreams.

You think to yourself, “ME LIKEY!” as you take a brief swig of whatever the hell was leftover at the bottom of that glass that was sitting on your bureau.

It’s summertime, and the livin’ is easy.

You’ve obviously slept half the day away in hopes of dusting off the residue of whatever the heck happened at that bonfire party on the beach last night?

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Wait, what did happen? You try to remember, as you walk out to your back deck.

“Well, there was the test tube shots.”

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“Then there was the high-fives.”

“Then at some point, we were playing volleyball with babes in bikinis.”

What a night.

Now it’s almost afternoon.

You realize you’ve got some time to kill before tonight’s party.

Since you’re living every second like it’s 1987 anyway, you grab a copy of ALF on VHS and pop a squat on an old beat-up recliner.

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You slam down a few light beers to clear the mental fog and enjoy a grab bag size of Doritos, all the while counting down the moments until the next glorious party.

What’s so special about tonight’s party? Easy, buttercup: it’s an 80’s + 90’s party.

Which means it’s the perfect place to bust out your fanny pack hat.

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IT’S A FANNY PACK, BUT ON YOUR HEAD.

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So freaking radical, it’s hard to even imagine how such an invention was even made.

You pop some Big League Chew in your mouth and LOL at the cat-eating alien on your screen.

It’s go time, hombre.

The party is tonight.

The center of attention?

You, and that sweet a** hat.

Store all of the party supplies you’ll need: some Certs breath mints (in case hot babes want to make out with you), a can of TAB cola (low on calories so you stay in primo physical shape) and a crumpled up piece of paper with directions to the party.

It’s go time. This fanny hat pack is the party starter, and you’re ready to make it happen.

Wears like a hat. Stores like a fanny pack.

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You can even fold it up and easily slip it into your pocket (in case any smokin’ hot babes want to run their fingers through your hair).

One size fits every radical dude on the planet, just like you.

Now go get ‘em, tiger.