In the mid-90s, it seemed I couldn't swing a tweeker at 333 Ritch without hitting a bitch in a leopard-print coat. Earlier this millenium, mullets began cropping up at an alarming rate on art fags slumming at the Eagle's Sunday Beer Bust. So many times I've seen fashion take a tragic turn and thought, "there oughta be a law."
Now I take it all back; this is just ridiculous.
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Comments for There Ought Not To Be a Law
Point and laugh by all means, but a law?
- Posted at 3:45 PM | By
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