Announcing the Beginning of my Fashion Empire
Fashion is a harsh mistress. A tough, fickle, got-your-balls-in-a-vise-grip femme fatale. (Not that I'm against having my balls in a vise grip sometimes under the supervision of the correct dominatrix, but I digress...)
Those of you who know me well know that my style veers towards the European, somewhere between a metallic silver Eurotrash racing jacket, a Speedo two sizes too small, and the certainty of the French Transvestite.
Anyway, here in this podunk college town with a non-working river—I guess it's there for ambience, and for Thunder-McGuire to pluck idiots out of every now and then, fashion has been just about non-existent since the untimely demise of Moda Americana. I am correcting this by donning the new hat of fashion designer, and would like to introduce my first product:
The Roger Bradley Fantasy Messenger Bag
I got my intern Brad to model it for you—don't you think he has a nice ass?
Those of you who know me well know that my style veers towards the European, somewhere between a metallic silver Eurotrash racing jacket, a Speedo two sizes too small, and the certainty of the French Transvestite.
Anyway, here in this podunk college town with a non-working river—I guess it's there for ambience, and for Thunder-McGuire to pluck idiots out of every now and then, fashion has been just about non-existent since the untimely demise of Moda Americana. I am correcting this by donning the new hat of fashion designer, and would like to introduce my first product:
The Roger Bradley Fantasy Messenger Bag
I got my intern Brad to model it for you—don't you think he has a nice ass?
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