The new Drug Enforcement Administration Museum chronicles the history of drug abuse in America exactly how you might expect it to: with exhibits showing drug specimens, seized weapons, undercover agent rave outfits and heaps of moralizing propaganda thrown in for good measure. As with any museum, it has a gift shop attached where you can purchase all sorts of merch emblazoned with the agency’s logo and shield. Beyond the usual tees and mugs, there are a few bizarre, funny and disturbing products waiting to be purchased by people with bad taste or a truly ironic sense of humor. PRØHBTD dug through the museum’s web store to highlight the cream of the razed-with-a-flamethrower crop.
The perfect grill companion for when you care more about the appearance of patriotism than actually respecting the stars and stripes. Sure, it might go against the spirit of the flag code, but we can’t find any specific passage in the book that prohibits someone from cracking a cold one and flipping some dank burgs with a stainless steel cut out of Old Glory. But it’s that kind of disregard for the rules that got America such triumphs as the Transcontinental Railroad and Air Bud.
This coin, featuring a skeleton at a black-tie event, somehow transcends the laws of cool and fishhooks around the bend of laughable fearmongering back into the realm of legitimate badassery, even if the artist behind it will never know why. I truly want to go to whatever soirée this guy attends.
Oh, and whatever the mission the other side is referencing, “lol” at the assertion of its vitality.
What possible use could anyone have for a near-replica of a federal law enforcement agent badge? I’ve been racking my brain and just can’t think of a single thing someone could do with a hunk of metal that’s nearly indistinguishable from another hunk of metal that affords its holder unparalleled levels of access, protection and command. Oh well. I guess just enjoy it as a paperweight or something.
Seems like just the other day America was in the throes of Prohibition. Boy, we sure got that one wrong, huh? Turns out alcohol isn’t inherently evil. That reefer stuff, on the other hand, absolutely is, and I can’t foresee a day when this agency reverses its official stance on the matter. Let’s celebrate the permanence of that position by taking a shot of the legal intoxicant of your choice from a glass with a picture of a disgraced president touching a close-to-death musician.
The perfect headwear for when you want to simultaneously announce yourself as a DEA agent, blend into the foliage surrounding you and shine a spotlight on your own face. Us humans are complicated creatures containing multitudes, so why shouldn’t our accessories be the same?
The little tyke might not yet be walking or forming words, but they’re never too young to be indoctrinated into rooting for the systemic oppression of people of color via disingenuous morality policing. Also, there’s no way that cheap bottle isn’t leaking BPA into the kid’s formula.
Everyone and their mom has an old D.A.R.E. shirt lying around so “step up” your game as the coolest faux-straight edge on the block with a shirt from the DEA’s breakdancing squad, which is apparently a thing our tax dollars are being spent on.
The other mall security guards will be green with envy when they see you roll up to work with these bad boys gripping the Camry’s steering wheel. Be careful not to dirty them up when collaring that Hot Topic shoplifter.
Chokers are so in fashion that even our national emblem is getting in on the trend. If this coquettish raptor of the sky doesn’t cause you to feel some type of way and awaken your inner furry, nothing ever will.
Featuring a sentiment so antiquated that it’s adorable, this bumper sticker (which doubles as a bathroom stall sticker) makes the perfect gift for your favorite cannabis enthusiast. Fun fact: This product has never been purchased unironically.
Ok, seriously, DEA. First the sexy eagle, now this leather daddy bear? Not kink-shaming or anything. Just letting you know I see you nasty boys and girls.
It would be the ultimate move to sniff these until you got brain damage and then sue the agency for being drug dealers. I’m not a lawyer or anything, but that sounds like an airtight case.
You don’t own, nor will you ever own a seafaring vessel, and every electronic device you do own, from your fridge to your phone, already has a digital clock built in, but—goddamn—something about a $100 clock in a box really sets off the home office, doesn’t it?
Guys, you’re not fooling anyone. Just follow your passion and set up the adult toy store already so you can sell bondage rope without all the misdirects.