Shirt Stains: Kumitayer


Sweep the leg, Kerry!

The end is nigh, my friends. Slayer are headed towards the finish line of their final* tour. No, no. Dry your eyes on your crusty denim vest. Leave the memories alone. If you truly love someone, you have to let them go. All we have to remember them by is a dozen studio albums, two live albums, six music videos, two Grammys, a “final” tour that is over a year long and a lot of laughs. Is that really enough?

What will we do to fill the void until we get an inevitable Kerry King Presents: Reign In Blood – The Music Of Slayer solo tour or another Gary Holt For-Fucks-Sake-A-Palooza? The thrash flag must be kept flying high, and we all know you’re not going to buy an Anthrax shirt. What is a hesher to do? Sure, you can buy a Slayer shirt or Slayer apron or $50 Slayer candle, but you need something more. You need something to show that you have honor, discipline, disposable income. You need the official Slayer Final Tour karate gi.



Move over, Foot Fist Way. Face Palm Way is here with the vengeance of a thousand mediocre solos. Slayer’s dumb-as-hell race car was shit-canned less than a week after it was announced and they sure as hell weren’t going to give up the chance to slap their name all over something. You gotta represent the ‘Layer at all times. Can’t let anyone think for one second that you can’t name every song on Diabolus In Musica, especially when you’re breaking boards at Tiger Shulmann’s Martial Arts dojo. Black belt? Fuck that, you ain’t no fuggin pusscake, right? Gimme a BLOOD belt! Let’s crane kick some bitchass libtards, sensei.

The karate master on the left looks like he’s ready to chop you right in the neck for insinuating that the band hasn’t put out a good album in over twenty years. The karate master on the right looks like he’s seriously regretting not taking that foot-modeling job on the creepy side of town. Deers caught in headlights refer to him when they’re scared. The placement of the band’s name in the shoulder/armpit is obviously meant as a distraction for their opponents. If they’re not already laughing themselves into submission.

The back of the gis come in two styles.

Baby’s First Battle Vest Gi


Totally Seriously Our Last* Tour Gi

And yes, the inside of the gi has the same design because you need to show the paramedics how XTREME you are when they open your gi to tend to your broken ribs.


Yeah, it hurts to breathe and my vision is getting blurry, but have you heard Dittohead? Fucking tight! *cough cough internal bleeding cough* While it may seem odd for Slayer to have such a specific piece of merchandise, Tom Araya is a big old Empty Hand boi. You’d think it would give him some inner peace or at least common sense to not say and Instagram stupid shit. While that all makes sense, this little edition to a gi is strange.

Yes, Jeff Hanneman was a beloved and essential part of Slayer. No question. What that has to do with karate, I’m not sure. Maybe he was Tom’s sparring partner. Strange addition if he wasn’t, but I suppose you honor your friend as much and as often as possible. Maybe the Hanneman memorial logo appeared somewhere on the race car and Slayer is just being consistent.

There you have it. The official Slayer gis. Perfect for any martial artist or obsessive metal fan that just needs something to wear when they’re placed into their KISS coffin. Just be ready to plunk down 120 GBP or about 148 USD. Wear it to their final* tour and challenge people to fights in the pit. Show no mercy and all that.

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