Dr. Thorpe: Do they put this in the yard to scare away their enemies?
Zack: The Knights Templar are getting soft.
Dr. Thorpe: I know this woolly yarn face mask thing looks pretty ridiculous to us, especially in the context of somebody's weird wool fetish and everything, but seriously. Don't you want to have sex with that thing just a little bit?
Zack: A little bit? Pop a Fleshlight in that bad boy and I bet it would rock harder than a Yaddle rig.
Dr. Thorpe: The main problem with these things is that you can only use them for really satisfying heavy-duty sex purposes once before they're ruined. Kind of like a woman.
Zack: Also if you eat a hamburger while wearing one. Kind of like a woman.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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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.