Zack: Tommy Leepunk here is steam security, escorting a couple more masked Juggalos politely out of the fair...and into the back of his sweet van.
Dave: Oh shit, it's Mystery. He figured running NLP routines on skanky club chicks was old hat (get it?) so he decided to ply the PUA trade on the steampunk circuit.
Zack: If that really is Mystery the stench of old body spray and flop sweat coming off the fur brim of that hat must be eye-watering.
Dave: Yo Style, you gotta get out to NYC, bro. This steampunk shit is amazing. I'm about to close the deal with two SP 6.1s, but they're total solid 7s in masks!
Dave: All I had to do was ask if I could escort miladys upon mine airship moon journey... in my pants!
Zack: Dude you don't even have to dress up or anything. It turns out we WERE steampunks all along.
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
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.