Mah dude and Renaissance Man, Cee-Lo Green, as Pimperella: Grande Kunt of Da Bawl.
Behold, the Glooory of Heidi Klum in a tweeked Mondo original.
Charo givin you’se girls that glamorous “Scarlet O’Hara-Mammy-Make-Me-A-Couture-Outta-Mah-Mama-Bedazzled-Parlor-Drapes” look thats so Haute in da streets right now.
Lucrecia’s home-did prom shroud and Crayola box-braids.
Ah Jake, I can see from your stylish ensemble you’ve made a personal Christian commitment to bless God with your life. I thank the Lordt’ for you ministry. I will be
holding you at gun point and pistol whippin that head borrowing that scarf………..and, jacket………………slacks……..y’know, uh, just…….just don’t be expecting to wear that more than this one time.
P.S. What “water” stain on the front of your left pant leg?
I know that you did not just stumble and fall on the runway during fashion week and as if that wasn’t enough, take off the shoe and hobble your little hobbit headed body off stage!?!?!?
Oh!………I’m sorry…………..was walking to the end of the runway and back without the aid of an act of God too difficult to pull off?
REALLY?! At the Burberry show too? I knew when they start lettin models eat again we’d have problems. If I had my way lil girl, the only fashion job you’d be able to get after this would be selling t-shirts at the tractor pull gift shop to dudes nick-named Bubba whose idea of high-fashion is a pair of overalls that don’t have a hole in the crotch!
These models clearly don’t know how to execute a professional walk unless Ms. Anna Wintour is runnin behind em’ crackin that name brand whip!
Let’s Not Forget The Classic:
*Rachel Zoe stacatto rambling* “Couldn’t – You – Just – Uh – Die?”
Of course, I personally could’ve died watchin this, but the delicious blood of Christ has beat back the kunt of death…………I thank you dear Jesus……thank you. Y’know, the only way you can tell which is the real Rachel Zoe is by the premium strand donkey hair weaving around the hairline. Everybody knows Rachel Zoe, my boo, don’t wear no premium strand, nothin but midwest trailer shedded flyaways. That cyborg too did up to be my boo! *gum pop*
….stop lookin around, I mean YOU…..or have we forgotten about the gov’ment a$$i$tance we’ve been tryin to get our couture with knowin full well Nordstroms dont take no ”foodstamp charge card”. Don’t be ashamed, at least you didn’t earn it on your back or balancin on your head or whatevah *shrug*…..
ACNE wedge booties
I thought I’d post this piece of smut for you shoe whores, y’know, those of you not afraid to turn some tricks for some kicks. *KA-BOOOOM* OH! Did you hear that? That was the sound of someones inner-meats goin nuclear, how pleasant. I’ll thank you however to quit rubbin your body up against the screen, this ain’t that kinda site.
Adidas Y-3x Honja highs
According to the grapevine *ahem, FashionINDIE*, Conde Nast don’t want no stinking Vogue Africa!
Glamour guru Mario Epanya had been pitching the ambitious idea to Conde via email along with these breathtaking samples he imagined but Conde said NO! Conde?………..Condeeeh?……..c’mon Conde!
Well now, wait, we won’t jump to any extreme conclusions. I’m sure Conde was just confused cuz there weren’t any monkeys or chimpanzee’s on the cover throwin poo or slangin bananas or nibblin fleas out of the next monkeys fur. Maybe Conde Nast was confused as to why no one had a bone in their ear lobe or a disc in their lip. Probably Conde Nast wondered why none of the models were suckin the meat out of a watermelon through a gap where African cootie bacteria malnourishmentz had eaten a hole through their purple gums. I mean these covers imagined by glamour guru Mario Epanya, they’re preposterous. These beautiful and regal models look human, not a thumbless primate among them and that can’t be real actual uncartoon life.
On top of which, Vogue and Vogue Australia and Vogue India and Vogue UK and Vogue Japan and Vogue Nippon and Vogue Antarctica and Vogue Moon and Vogue Atlantis show plenty of black models. Vogue Africa would just be frivolous. Does anyone know the true reason? I guess only Conde Nast and Conde Nasts stable of Aunt Je-mammies and Uncle Ben’s and gorilla human hybrids are the only ones that will ever know. Next up, Vogue Eskimo *sips coffee*
Various earthquakes in various lands…..
BP makes poo-fudgez in the Gulf…….
Miley Cyrus exposed her teeny puddin…..
Clearly the Lord is pisst’ and now this disaster!? Nike Harajuku offered 24 spots for its NikeID Bespoke personalized specialty sneaker experience and all 24 spots were gobbled up in mere minutes, dashing the hopes of hundreds of losers hopefuls upon the cruel rocks of fate. There’s a fashion slut cryin into a jug of gin as we speak, pray his strength (and NO it is not me). The experience includes a 90 minute consultation where the participant can choose from wild fabric and print choices not available to other consumers. Whats really sad is I didn’t even know! No email, no text, no smoke signal, no carrier pigeon, no Nahthingk’! Anderson Cooper is slippin, I mean he can report on crap like Haiti and Katrina but life altering events like this?………..no Anderson Cooper!
More At: Freshness Mag