I mean, it's bad for the rest of your body too, but I can't confirm or deny its existence right now.

Edward Cullen was a vampire, and I would soon be jumping off of the nearest bridge I could find after realizing this exists.

Again kids, stay away from sharp knife-shaped objects!

Who knows, maybe that nearby Icee machine is cooling down the room. In that case, bundle up!

In the nether realm between life and death, both ill-fitting jeans and ill-suited cutoffs live simultaneously. Indeed, a terrifying domain.

Papa always said "never insult the fashion decisions of a lady with a firearm," and though there's no magazine in that machine gun I'm not going to take any chances.

What better way to evoke the grace, dignity, and athleticism of dance than with America's greatest pastime?