Zackula: Neighborhood groups would be a lot more tolerant of street prostitution if all hookers dressed as dinosaurs.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Aww yeah, I wouldn't mind watching her spitting acid goo in a fat guy's face and disemboweling him on a muddy hillside.
Zackula: She may be wearing nothing but a seafood bib the color of a deer hunting vest, but at least the kids are learning something by seeing her raptor head jiggling around in an alleyway on some dude's unit.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Wait, I can't tell if you're kidding right now-- you do know that's what Barney was, right? Or were you just too young to catch it?
Zackula: I did wonder why he asked every kid on the show, "Are you a cop?"
Dr. Thorpenstein: You never put two and two together that he's called "Barney," which is slang for a huge purple erection?
Zackula: That whole "I love you, you love me" thing was a dead giveaway in hindsight.
Dr. Thorpenstein: I guess he was more of a "sex worker" than a prostitute, but yeah, that was some pretty touchy-feely free love advocacy right there.
Zackula: That whole verse about the "price being right so long as you're holdin', gimme the horse and you can have any hole."
Zackula: Barney is now down to the size of Grover, veins all black on scag, muttering about hand jobs and trying to busk with an overturned pickle bucket.
Zackula: That's what happens when your neighborhood gets gentrified by Yo Gabba Gabba.
Dr. Thorpenstein: And those damn Teletubbies moving in and cornering the market on all the really sick shit-- they'll do for five what you won't do for fifty.
Zackula: You spit in their hand and call it a nickel and they will break a bottle over that sun baby's face and cut the shit out of the robot.
Zackula: They will let you film them choking each other. They don't give a fuck. They are nihilists. If the drugs and the disease don't get them, then they'll "fuck it" and suicide by cop at the OTB.
Dr. Thorpenstein: I heard Dipsy will go bareback Greek if you even tell him who's holding.
Zackula: Dipsy lost all feeling after he got meatsocked on a fungo bat for 75 cents and a baggie full of stems.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Noo-Noo let a bunch of crust punks skateboard over his nuts cause they offered to let him lick their burnt skag spoon.
The Remains of Bidet (James Ivory, 1993)
We might find we have more in common than we think if we just stop fighting long enough to combine our bodies into a singular organism.
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.