no thanks

And by work I mean strip club. And by strip club I mean the unmarked dumpster behind the Jiffy Lube.

That wouldn't even work anyway, you couldn't just use my number as yours... oooooohhh I get it now! Still no.

I can only hope the runway is durable and well-enforced.

Lose the shoes and maybe we'll talk.

Better cover the coin slot before kids start dropping quarters in there looking for a prize.

And yet, the memory continues on...

The "Mouth in front of a powerful fan" look is symbolic. Symbolic of how much this blows.

Ugh, it's like seeing a sack of groceries in swim wear.

I mean, what happened to the old days when you just went down to the boardwalk, avoided teenagers selling drugs, and played skee-ball on a cloudy Sunday afternoon?

Don't you usually need to set up a booth with a permit for that sort of thing?

I mean, if you insist, I'll just leave then.

What did this outfit need more of? Honey mustard, apparently.