
W samym sercu Paryża w butiku Starcow pojawiła się właśnie druga wiosenno-letnia dostawa amerykańskiej firmy FUCT. Tym razem do czynienia mamy z t-shirtami. W lineupie znalazły się proste koszulki z logo brandu pokrytym popularnym wzorem w panterkę. Ci, którzy preferują bardziej wymyślne nadruki powinni zainteresować się pozostałymi tee'sami, m.in. pokazywanym niedawno Orgy T-Shirt.
















Tenisufki polecają
2012?
vFjSPPCNDDL
Oh, Jay, I donât know what I look forward to most âmy wekley Sexenade from my Virtual Tease (oh, David Cook, you Nasty Thang!), or The Jayâs Bombastic Diatribe on the Merits of Idolatry. The usual props, you are Dead-On, Dude! I do actually think all the Idol wanna-beâs are pretty good this year. WelllllâŚ.. kinda sorta except for Kristy Lee. For whom I have this primal desire to bitch-slap with a banana peel and hang her up by her facial tics. On barbed wire. (Does that make me a bad person?) Anyhoo, I digress⌠As I was saying, theyâre all aiight, but with the exception of Nasty Thang, they are, well, just a little, dare I say it? Out loud? OK, if I must⌠Boring. Except for when they are in the throes of the wekley âgroup numberâ or the Ford pimpmercial, for which Utterly Divine Humiliation = Not So Boring. (Oh, Nigel, you sadist! GrrrâŚ) I donât mean to âdis and I really do mean all this in the nicest possible passive-aggressive way (that would be the Fine Southern Diva in me), and Iâm probably being a little harsh â yeah, I admit it, I am. Okay, I WOULD actually pay to see Michael Johns sing. Naked. In a constant loop of Bohemian Rhapsody, sans the goofy ascot. Oh, and ooh, ooh I forgot Jason Castro! Yeah, baby, Iâd pay to see him, too! Naked. Singing James Taylor and strumming on his gee-tar, while I suck down a Venti Sugar-free Hazelnut Latte. Extra Cream. And because Iâm more than just a little bit pissed at him for not repeating all his Hallelujah Glory, exotic black-breasted puffleg hummingbirds must flutter in and out of the Dreads ala Snow White shout-out, or Iâm just not having any of that hot, tranny mess. SERIOUSLY now, Nasty Thang is the only one I can honestly see me parting with Ben Franklin for. But, in the interest of full and fair disclosure, I have been a Cookie-Cutter from Day One. In retrospect, that probably means something since he was sporting all kinds of fugly for his audition (and that would be the Shallow Southern Diva in me Oh yeah, baby Blake Lewis sweater vest and a red-streaked Sanjaya feauxhawk, um, Seriously Guy??? ) But, alas, Mofo found his Mojo (âHello!) and consistently belts some deadly tune-age, albeit a âbit worthyâ. He should win on voice and sheer talent alone, but I'm betting the House that the signature NastyThangSexFaces during the money notes push him over the top. The Smartest Idol. Ever. And I love the new âDo. Good for him. Bravo, Nasty Thang! Whew, somebody beat me, er spray me, with a fire hose â itâs gettinâ Hot. In. Here. Later, yâall!
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