Look, I’m a vampire! What? Wait let me lower the glass a little bit. Okay now look! What? Okay how about now? No? Try putting your head on the table and looking up at me. See? It’s like I’m drinking blood. Because I have fangs. No, on the glass. No, those are etched in the glass so it looks like I . . . oh fuck it.

Nothing says I’ll bang anything like a giant condom wrapper on your bed. Oh, It might not be as elegant as a Sparkletts dispenser full of Astroglide, but compared to the Hefty bags full of scat porn in your living room, it’s practically poetry.

I would have thought a great gift to keep Michael alive might have been a defibrillator. But I’m not a doctor.

Other than that, this makes perfect sense. Because whenever I hear “Michael Jackson”, I immediately think “baseball”. Well technically, I think “Little League”, but you know what I’m saying.

I don’t know what the “freebies” are that come with these hideous sneakers, but with any luck they’ll be change of address forms. Because as soon as someone in your neighborhood sees you wearing these things, you’re on the list to get your emo weepy ass kicked every fucking day for the rest of your pathetic life.