Defining Quote: "I've walked the soil of communist countries, stood at Columbus' remains in the D.R., old slave posts in Antigua, and at Victoria Peak - Hong Kong. I've visited the Museum Of The Revolution in Havana Cuba, ran with bulls in Costa Rica and rode elephants in Phuket. I've seen the sunrise at 10,000 ft., the first known world map, and Columbus' birth certificate."
Dr. Thorpe: I guess that means half the known world has laughed at your fucking purple beard. It looks like you fell asleep in a glass of grape juice. The worst part is that your shirt matches it, though. "Oh man, bro, I got this awesome fake velvet zip-up shirt for only three bucks at Ross, can you believe it? I'd better dye my beard, because this thing is stayin' on me for a long time!"
Zack: His beard is so sparse that it looks like it has been drawn on with a marker.
Dr. Thorpe: He had to dye it a loud color so people would stop mistaking it for a gravy stain.
Zack: I'm sure the tour guide at the old slave posts in Antigua was totally intrigued by this mysterious guy and his eyeliner. A man with eyeliner?! He must be interesting!
Dr. Thorpe: I love the fact that this guy is such a huge titty that he cropped the girls out of this photo. He's got this photo of a girl kissing him and another girl leaning into him, and he decides that the most aesthetically important aspect of the image is his big dumb face.
Zack: Haha, right. More like they threatened to sue him if he kept their faces in the photo.
Dr. Thorpe: "Please be advised that I have retained council and intend to pursue legal action if my face is not removed from your photo on Myspace immediately. I was drunk when the photograph was taken, and I did not notice that your beard was purple."
Zack: "You were so oily and purple I thought you were a wax statue of Grimace during his thin years."
Dr. Thorpe: I like how he's still got the lock and chain around his neck from when he was a kid and his mom would lock him to a bike rack outside the supermarket so she could shop without him embarrassing her.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
Ignore the hype. Find out how these games will likely go right or wrong.
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.