OK, OK, I won’t hit on you. Jesus. You don’t have to give my penis nightmares. Comments/Enlarge |
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The juxtaposition of Willy Wonka suit top and St. Marks Misfits gloves is so perfect we’re actually glad she took it easy on us for the rest of the look and didn’t bust out some high-heel boots or something. The vascular tissue in our dinks can only hold so much blood. Comments/Enlarge |
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All of you complaining about it being too hot right now need to take a good look at this picture. Soon enough, we’ll have about six months of trudging around amidst shit-skimos like Bundles over here.Comments/Enlarge |
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DOS & DON'TS
The biggest difference between New York and Montreal is basically the quality of late-night snacks. New Yorkers are so high on Puerto Rican coke they don't want to buy any drunk food. That means New York Jews have no incentive to up their bagel standards from some idiotic big bun with an asshole in the middle to a work of art like this. A sinewy, chewy, thin, fresh-out-of-the-oven, late-night Montreal classic. Can you not just smell their majestic beauty right now?
Sorry homos, models, and people without calculators. After meat-eating and traffic, fur kills about as many animals as cops do. You're going to have to come up with some slightly better math if you're going to make us not want to see girls look this hot.
Um, Hello, Anna Winterpol! Instead of getting stuck in the old quagmire of neat-as-a-pin guy, this dude has decided he's going to be the first male to pick up the "elderly fashion-editor lady with the crazy glasses" thing. Who the fuck would dare copy him now?
Speaking of Anna, why do girls read fashion magazines? All you have to do to make us shit ourselves is get some stilettos, emphasize your ass somehow, allude to boobs, and brush your hair. Making us beat off is not rocket science.
Being punk in the winter is a lot like being stranded in a life raft. The only way you can survive is to throw the idea of cool shoes overboard (hence the industrial rubber boots) and focus all your punk rations where they count—up top with the living.
Could the Amish be any cooler? They started their group because they thought church and state should be separate and kids shouldn't be forced into religon (listening, Islam?) and then they stick to their guns for 500 motherfucking years!? Even today you see them at toy fairs chilling with the Clics niggas and not even LOOKING over at the toys with automated parts.
One way to make rockers stop staring at your chest is to carefully cover them with form-fitting disco balls. They're like, "Right on, tits!" and then they're all, "Aaah fuck I hate those things" but then they're like, "But I like tits. What am I, Rob Halford?" It drives them crazy.
It's hard writing these when there are hot chicks because you know the girls are going to go, "They're only there because they're hot. The DOs & DON'Ts is just BABES & NOTBABES," so you avoid pictures like this until you realize, "Wait a minute. The critics are turning me into a fucking babeist. These are hot outfits, goddamnit, and I am running them."
I don't know if you've ever been to any National Alliance meetings or seen Sam Francis (RIP) do a talk for the CCC, but one thing they won't shut up about is how hot white people are. Then you look around and everyone looks like Harry Potter's dad. If you want to dwell on gayness like "What race is cuter?" you may want to hire people like this to be milling around the next meeting.
As we made clear in the DON'Ts, anti-war pins are like, "Duh." If you really want to make spoiled brats grind their teeth, light the fuse on this "Raghead Express" and watch what happens. Their ponytails will shoot through the ceiling.
