Dr. Thorpenstein: As if a nude Indian child costume weren't disturbing enough, check out the one and only review of this thing:
"This costume is so cute but it is way too thin! There is no way it can be worn without some type of clothing underneath since you can so easily see through it. I really hate that because it really is cute and would have been great. I am not sure I'd recommend it because of how thin it is. I am not even sure what we can put underneath it. Kind of frustrating!"
Zackula: So they made a nudie suit for an Indian costume AND it's see-through. Wheels within wheels. Visible child underwear within naked child Indian costumes.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Yep. This thing is the ultimate professional triumph of someone's weird sexual predilections.
Zackula: What's really amazing is that review you quoted is two stars not one. So they loved the nude Indian aspect, but not the see-through aspect.
Dr. Thorpenstein: I want to eroticize my child, but I get a little weirded out when I accidentally double-eroticize it.
Zackula: But on the plus side at least you can disrespect a nearly exterminated people while you do it.
Dr. Thorpenstein: This actually gives me a good idea for a costume: I want one of those tuxedo t-shirts, but it's a little bit see-through and you can faintly make out that I'm wearing an actual tuxedo underneath.
Dr. Thorpenstein: Also, I'm in blackface and have a noose around my neck.
Zackula: I already did that with some of those plastic breasts and it turns out I have gorgeous female breasts underneath them.
Zackula: Not for Halloween or anything. Just to wear around the house, to the store, into my buried school buses full of people suits, etc.
Dr. Thorpenstein: The ultimate irony would be wearing a Mac-N-Cheese suit and actually having a belly full of delicious Mac-N-Cheese underneath, and also not knowing what irony means.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
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.