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.
Ferguson's long arm of the law laments the latest cutback.
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.
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.