Zack: It's probably hard to use two scoped revolvers at the same time.
Steve: Is that a robot behind her?
Zack: It looks like a sports car, staple of the cheescake calendar.
Steve: She barely even comes up to the hood of that car. She must be like a foot tall.
Zack: Babies killing babies.
Steve: Yeah, she is a babe for sure. I would still probably do her if she was only a foot tall.
Zack: That's so small. That's like the size of a loaf of bread.
Steve: Did you ever see that Nickelodeon TV show The Littles?
Zack: That cartoon where the little tiny people lived in a matchbox?
Steve: Yeah, they were like elves or something. There was this fine as hell redhead in that show and I would totally do her. She was like the size of a GI Joe figure.
Zack: Man, imagine doing both of them at once! It would be like rolling around on a pile of Beanie Babies while you're on ecstasy.
Steve: Yeah, it would be pretty amazing. You'd have to be really carefuly though.
Zack: Because they're guns akimbo with the scoped revolvers?
Steve: No, because they're so small. My aunt's sister had a teacup chihuahua and it was asleep on the couch and she sat on it and it died. She wasn't even that fat.
Zack: That's tragic.
Steve: I guess, that dog sucked though. It chewed up my copy of Heroes Unlimited at a family reunion.
it's hard to shake the feeling that I've always got five stars in this Grand Theft Auto known as life.
Now, inexplicably, season three is looming over us like some sort of dome. Season one's plot asked whether or not the town could get out from under the dome. Apparently the answer was "no". Season two asked "I guess we're really stuck, huh?" and the answer was "yup".
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.