Zack: Why are they yelling? They can't even see what we're being forced to see. Wait, a better question is why aren't we yelling?

Dave: This is from the original cut of Red Dragon. They had to change it to the William Blake image to avoid an NC-17 for disturbing content.

Zack: Can we just tie all of the animes to a wheelchair, set them on fire, and push them down a hill?

Dave: Just like in Red Dragon, this tattoo must be some kind of sign of deep mental disturbance-- luckily, it looks like they've already locked this guy up in some kind of THX-1138 prison.

Zack: Some poor TSA screener is about to administer the most surreal body cavity search since that guy tried smuggling songbirds into the country inside pneumatic bank canisters.

Dave: I'll bet doctors hate it when anime characters yell at them during prostate exams.

Zack: Especially doctors named Tetsuo.

Dave: When people make anime jokes I just pretend to get them in hopes that they won't try to explain them.

Zack: Lucky for you they can just link to a 10,000 word Wikipedia page. It's 8,350 words longer than the William Blake Wikipedia page.

Zack: Only fair when you realize that the planning committee that comes up with plots for episodes of Guncat Cuties is this generation's William Blake.

Dave: I make fun of anime to conceal my own shame. I've actually got a full-back tattoo of all the characters from my favorite anime series, Robo Bathrobe No Gene Hackman.

Zack: Ugh, I think you mean Robo Battrobe No Gene Hakuman.

Dave: Heh. I think I know a little something about anime. Look me up on IMDB and you'll notice I did the English voice of "Sakuda Rei" in thirty-six episode of Skygirl: Infinity Hearts Angel.

Zack: English voice? You just keep getting worse. Dubs are for children. I ONLY tolerate subs.


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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.

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