Showing posts with label the blog should be called fake chanel and disgusting sandals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the blog should be called fake chanel and disgusting sandals. Show all posts

Sunday, August 29, 2010

FUCK YOU FASHION BLOG

Over a month ago my boss and I got our photos taken for A UK fashion blog and I was psyched! Not just because someone was agreeing with how fash I think I am but also because my boss had just gotten super angry at me for asking him if he accidentally bought his shirt from the women's section of H&M, and I knew the promise of an appearance in a fashion blog would distract him from firing me.

It really did look like a woman's shirt, it had a cowl neck.

So anyway, our picture is not up on there. And I am offended. And hurt. I am also feeling vengeful. The worst part of it is that in most of the pictures the outfits are like the fashion underworld, the seventh circle in particular.



Hey Kristin Stewart, I think a sorcerer turned your black dress yellow and took the insolent scowl off our face. Bummer.



Five years ago this guy would have been dating his hand.



Everyone who thought Jean Michel Basquiat was in heaven blowing Andy Warhol, you were wrong. He's in Liverpool.




This reminds me of the time an African woman said to a homo at my work "excuuuse me, are you a boy or a girl?"



This looks like something Clare would wear except replace the cardi with a prison issue jumper with snot stains on the sleeves and the shoes with some ghey Alexa Chung sandals.



"Oh these? I made them at my anorexia group therapy workshop"



I almost bought Spanx that look like this but I thought that they would make my jeans slip down.



"My uncle bought me a bracelet every time he molested me"



No words required.



These pants are hiding her elephant dick. And making me sick.



This guy must keep his dick in glad wrap inside his beard's handbag.

I'm not saying what the blog is in case they find our photos at a later date and think to themselves "how could I have overlooked such a pair! It looks like a picture of Jenny Lewis hanging out with Morrissey if he died and was dug up and put back together into a Frankenfag!"