Dr. Thorpe:Oh man, look at the terrifying mongoloid in the foreground. He looks like the villain from The Karate Kid or something. "NO MERCY SIR!"
Zack:I can't even tell if he has pant legs.
Dr. Thorpe:The red-pajamas-by-the-pool look is fucking audacious though, I gotta hand it to him. It's hard to swim in culottes.
Zack:I think they're about to fight over that tendony woman-thing.
Dr. Thorpe:Nah, look at her. She's not going to choose. I don't think the guy in red is even in the foreground. He's just a hulking giant.
Zack:Is it just me or does that woman look awfully old to be hanging out with boys that age?
Dr. Thorpe:That's just one of the levels on which this picture is creepy.
Zack:It really gets creepy when you read the side bar text and realize that they're all posed corpses.
Dr. Thorpe:The other level is imagining the three of them doing what they're about five minutes from doing in this photo. "Tonight - Drive Her Wild!" Presumably that's a command to both of those guys.
Zack:I think the guy on the left is going to be doing a karate kick, the guy on the right is going to be cleaning a pool or doing push-ups, and the woman is still going to be in that exact position, smiling as she stares at the sun.
Dr. Thorpe:Yeah, look at how tanned her face is. That's a face of a woman who's been trying in vain to understand the majesty of the sun but getting no further than hour-long staring contests with it.
Zack:Her field of vision consists of peripheral images and a giant glowing after-image of the sun.
Dr. Thorpe:The little guy's belly hair makes his navel look like a creepy pantomime eye.
Zack:He is a harlequin los stomachos.
Dr. Thorpe:Which is why she's smiling even as she's about to be double-teamed by a giant mental defective and a musclebound homunculus.
Zack:I like how the color is so depressing in the picture. It takes real talent as a photographer to make Malibu look like a smog day in Essex.
Dr. Thorpe:It also takes a really great photographer to get that perfect shot where the guy in red is clearly going "so when are you going to take the picture?"
Are we not allowed to be real parents anymore? We may have feared the CyborFreaks, but we damn well respected them and learned about boundaries.
A thousand years ago, dudes were dying from splinters, but now the wizard potion that cleans our light wounds costs less than a Dr. Pepper in 1994. I love this medicinal 7up.
Ron Paul spins in his chair, trying to grab his decorative antique musket but Freddy gets it first.
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.