Zack: Stevie hasn't fully completed her pre-op hormone therapy.
Steve: She needs to comb her hair that is outrageous.
Zack: She needs to comb her everything.
Steve: Do you know what kind of gun that is?
Zack: I don't know, Steve. Maybe a G3 or FN FAL?
Steve: I think it's the gun that the Mexican dude with the messed up face uses in Replacement Killers.
Zack: You realize that this isn't really about the guns, right? It's more about how ridiculous it is to have a calendar of ugly women in ugly clothes posing with guns.
Steve: I think that's dumb, this babe and the first babe are not all that hot but there is nothing wrong posing babes and guns together. Think about some of the finest barbarian art. It has a babe with a sword or an axe or something and maybe a severed lizard man head. Those pictures are awesome. A fine babe and a fine weapon go together like pizza and Mountain Dew.
Zack: Let's just hope G. Gordon Liddy could find some lizard men to abuse.
Steve: He has a 25% chance of encountering 1-6 lizard men in swampy terrain. Do you know what level he is?
Zack: He's a level one thief.
Steve: How many people are in his party?
Zack: I think about 150 million.
Steve: Oh man, running that encounter is going to be a nightmare.
Sorry about the blurry photo. I was lunging at my phone, yelling at it to take a clear picture. It's the only image of me that exists. I'd take another picture for you, but I'm in the middle of a rigorous trampoline session.
Call of Duty Advanced Warfare promises to up the ante on Kevin Spacey's face in a video game.
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.