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Dos & Don'ts

We rip the piss out of more people.

Κείμενο VICE Staff
01 Δεκέμβριος 2005, 12:00am

 

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.

Next time you call your girlfriend and it goes straight to voicemail and then you call her back and it goes straight to voicemail and that makes no sense because tomorrow is President's Day and she doesn't have to work, know this: She has thrown herself to the booze-and-boner wolves and your worst nightmares are only the tip of the black dickberg.   I feel sorry for guys that grew up with three or more sisters. By the time they're done dressing him up and making him cut out pictures of cute outfits, the guy has been so thoroughly estrogen gang-banged his brain is just basically a wet vulva that lies on its back and says to him, "Get us another Stoli and soda, bitch!"   Sorry, working class woman with an ax to grind in Taiwan, the Mumia case is very serious and complex and your flippant and racist jokes could not be more out of place. Grow the fuck up.         You know when some naive art-school hippie tells you how she lost her virginity to a disgusting old forest-dwelling creep that basically tricked her into coming to his boat? Imagine she had a camera with her?

She did. Now all you have to do is try not to imagine his red penis.   New York hasn't voted Republican in 20 fucking years, but you still have lesbians and teenage punks here thinking they're blowing our minds by saying they don't support Bush. Then, before we can pick our minds up off the floor, they go and blow us farther away by saying they're "anti-war." Whoa!

Let me guess, you're also a huge "good" fan and think "bad" blows.       The only thing more irritating than those irrelevant talking heads on VH-1 is the people that do them. How many people does it take to put a camera on a guy, 50? What's that, 11 makeup people? What are you, baby boomers? And why does the pontificating-questions guy have to take his fucking shoes off? He has to let "inspirado" into his toes? Fuck, when we take over that place there are going to be some serious job cuts.         Urban playas get more juvenile every year. First it was the "my big brother is a pro-athlete and he passed this down to me" clothes. Then they crammed on the oversize baseball hats like in the cancer ward of the children's hospital. And now they're sucking on color-coordinated lollipops? What, do you still live with your mommy and have an Ice Cube poster in your room? Oh, you do? Fuck, sorry.   Why is every stupid bitch with a credit card posing for pictures like she's Paris Hilton? It's amazing how some hot girls can push the MTV cornball shit so far over the edge that it makes you feel like a fag. She's a walking rape deterrent.         Yeah I'm interested. Who the fuck are you and who the fuck are you trying to appeal to? Do BDSM sex nerds come up and go, "Hey, I'm interested in finding more about half-nude mulatto masturbation addicts. Got any pamphlets?"   When two girls dress exactly the same what it means is the alpha female has tit-bullied her less intelligent friend into propping up her ridiculous costume. I'm guessing it's the one on the right that's starting to go, "Wait a minute, how did this bitch talk me into becoming Fraggle glam?"
Tagged:
Fashion
VICE Magazine
FUR
2004
Bagels
Dos & Don'ts
amish
Vice Blog
Volume 12 Τεύχος 3