Zack: This is the best friend of the dude in the No Shit Sherlock costume.
Dr. Thorpe: The way his face is framed by those curtains, it just looks like a giftwrapped invitation to punch him in the face.
Zack: Yeah, if I saw this dude at a party I would definitely surreptitiously stick a sign on the front that covers the word "kisses" with "punch me." You just want to break something sharp off in his skull.
Dr. Thorpe: I bet he and Sherlock have deep calluses on their hands from giving each other high-fives.
Zack: The only people who would wear a costume like this are the sort of cocky assholes who should have died in a drunk driving accident in the 11th grade, but somehow survived when they flipped their parents' Lexus. They killed a family of four, and it should have driven them to suicide, but they are untouchable. It's not that they're evil, it's that they don't actually ever reflect on anything.
Dr. Thorpe: Wouldn't it be amazing if someone shot him in his face, and then the coroner came and declared him dead on the scene and instead of putting a body bag over him, he just drew those little red curtains over his face? They could bury him in that thing instead of a coffin. It would be like a closed-casket funeral if they just left the curtains shut.
Zack: They would probably have to change the sign to something a little more appropriate for the funeral. "Mourning Booth. Tears Only FREE."
Dr. Thorpe: No Shit Sherlock would use his parents' money to start some kind of "Stop the Violence" media campaign in honor of his dead friend, but it would really just be a ploy to have sex with sympathetic women, like when Puff Daddy did that "I'll Be Missing You" song.
Zack: Yeah, and on his deathbed No Shit Sherlock will suddenly regret everything he did. He'll lean over to his adult children and say "Either that wallpaper goes or...something...something."
Dr. Thorpe: And they'll ignore it, just like everything else he says that doesn't directly relate to their inheritance.
Zack: And then he'll recover and become born again and be twice as annoying as he was as a thoughtless stoner.
Dr. Thorpe: He's like the male Laura Bush.
Zack: He'll live to be like 120 and write books about God's plan for him and being saved from cancer. The first of them will be called "The Healing Booth" and he'll dedicate to his friend who died.
Dr. Thorpe: Because he got shot in the face by one of the girls he date-raped.
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.