Steve: This is a really adult picture.
Zack: We all have a butt, Steve.
Steve: I saw this show on The Discovery Channel about medical mysteries and there was a guy on there who didn't have a butt.
Zack: He was born without a butt?
Steve: I don't know, I missed the beginning part of the show. I think he might have gotten his butt eaten off by some disease from bad ice cream.
Zack: That'll certainly teach him not to put his butt in ice cream.
Steve: No, he ate the ice cream and it had germs in it that made his butt come off, but now that I think about it I think the show had two parts and the ice cream one was some family that got sick. The butt one I must have just missed what caused it.
Zack: So did he die from standing for too long?
Steve: He could sit down, they had this little cushion for him that he carried with him and he had to have a pipe put in for going to the bathroom.
Zack: So your point is that this one guy who had a butt that fell off might get offended by seeing some of this girl's butt?
Steve: Yeah, only his butt didn't fall off, it just disappeared gradually. Like it eroded from disease.
Zack: I thought you'd like this picture because of the butt.
Steve: I like it a lot! This babe and her butt are hot as heck! I was just surprised how adult it was.
Zack: Very adult.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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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.