He sent me an email at 6 AM with this subject line: "15 Dogs in Wigs! Chihuahua Del Rey!"
And a 15-year-old girl now thinks I'm a pervert.
I’ve headbutted a cop and got away with it, made a ‘hate rap’, some mad friends, and moved rooms near to four times now. I got a coffee thrown at me today in group/lifestyle therapy by a Freedom Fighter with Tourette’s. She told me Jesus Christ never...
I was just wondering what your safety policy is or what you recommend we do in situations that could yield greatly in the name of Vice but could probably and would probably end in our absolute death.
OK, you got me. The trash pileup in the middle of the ocean is scary. But what are we supposed to do about it? Just be scared? Solutions please.
I bought some nice clothes at an American Apparel store in Camarillo, California. The gentleman was very helpful and courteous but then he put this disgusting magazine in my bag.
Re: the “War Resistant” article: All you military deserters deserve exactly what you will get. You were never forced into it. You joined of your own free will.
This is not an ass kiss, more of a sincere thank-you. I am not a part of Vice’s demographic—37, married with three kids, ages 10, 8, and 6.
The last time there was a magazine that was this worthwhile, warts and all, was... um, never, so how about not reading it if it’s soooo boring or not as good or core or whatever? It’s shit like that that makes me really hate my generation.
I was a big fan of the Story Awards, but in “Gremlin from Dublin” it said, “A friend of a friend of theirs…” Um, wasn’t there some big stink on the rules for the online story contest about no bullshit?