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Dr. Thorpe: Jesus, it's not like Da Vinci animated Family Guy originally. It can't take that much effort to make reasonably realistic depictions of the characters.
Zack: This may surprise you, but the first thing that caught my eye in this picture is Lois's freakish foot.
Dr. Thorpe: Oh dear, she looks like one of those kids who's born without the ability to feel pain so they chew all their toes off and are left with little nubs.
Zack: They're big amorphous flippers with no digit articulation.
Dr. Thorpe: Goddammit, I just made myself a little bit sad, because those kids are tragic. Fuck this picture for making fun of them.
Zack: The worst thing about this picture is the amount of shading work the artist put into the dog's erection.
Dr. Thorpe: Some might say it's the best thing about it.
Zack: Some including the artist and the people subscribed to his Yahoo group.
Dr. Thorpe: I'd say the best thing about it is the look on the dog's face. I mean, I know it's just puerile cartoon porn, but that dog's big happy smile kind of gets to me.
Zack: Yeah, that is genuine joy. It's definitely preferable to the vaguely disinterested lust of Lois. "I'm going to fuck the dog, but because I have to, not because I want to."
Dr. Thorpe: Yeah, this one is all about the dog's pleasure. This is just a friendly gesture.
Zack: Maybe she lost a bet or it's the dog's birthday or something.
Dr. Thorpe: Or maybe we shouldn't get into it, because if we start looking at the motivations of all the characters involved in these pictures we're never going to get anywhere. Maybe we should just leave it at "the artist is a pervert, and he decided that she should fuck the dog."
Zack: That's almost certainly for the best.
One roommate's art-fueled movement goes terribly wrong.
Emma Stone was the most paranoid person I had ever met. In private she wore a full suit of medieval armor at all times, visor down.
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.