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Zack: Gabrielle's meaty face recalls the exaggerated features of a drama mask.

Dr. Thorpe: Well, this is certainly some bold artistic style that I've never encountered before. It looks like everything is made of giant airbrushed marshmallows.

Zack: Meatmallows. I like how the artist managed to cleverly use knots and framing to hide their inability to illustrate a hand or foot.

Dr. Thorpe: Yes, hands can't be constructed of big shapeless blobs of shading, so they might as well be left out. At first Gabrielle's breast looked comically big, but now I see that it has to be like that in order to counterbalance the huge hump on her back.

Zack: She looks like a barbell with her enormous torso and enormous ass joined by a thin strip of abdomen. Also, the position of Xena's arm sort of conceals it but her breasts are even more freakishly oversized.

Dr. Thorpe: Her armpit just sort of keeps on going. She's got a dapper and well-maintained crease.

Zack: Yeah, it's like a chestpit or hippit.

Dr. Thorpe: Xena looks like she's wearing those big wax candy lips.

Zack: They both do, really. At least Xena has an appropriately matching strap-on dildo. That must have cost a fortune to custom make.

Dr. Thorpe: Oh, those are Gabrielle's lips? I thought Xena was feeding her some kind of meat on a stick.

Zack: This image really shows the deep Sapphic bond between Xena and Gabrielle that was always in the subtext of that show. Nothing says "lesbian love" like tying your traveling companion to a tree in the middle of the woods, gagging her, and then anally raping her while she cries.

Dr. Thorpe: There's no need for sarcasm. Lesbians are perfectly capable of having the same kind of relationships that heterosexuals have, so don't presume that it's somehow "strange" for them to participate in healthy bedroom activities like forced anal rape with foreign objects.

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Fashion SWAT... the fashion industry is obsessed with impracticality. We know that what designers create was never meant to be worn by the grimy masses, but that doesn't somehow diminish how ridiculous many of these costumes are. Make no mistake, they are costumes, and like a Halloween prize pageant we will turn our discerning gaze on the grievous fashion misfires of Paris, Milan, and New York. We're not pulling any punches, and we're definitely not interested in making any friends. We're Joan Rivers without Melissa Rivers to temper our screeching. We're the Fashion Police in jack boots. We are Fashion SWAT.

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