Someone was telling me about Michael Kors. Mikey K. sells sunglasses for $100. What exactly do $100 sunglasses do? They block out the sun in six dimensions, of course. That’s the three dimensions we know about (length, width, and height) plus three others that haven’t been discovered yet.
Victoria’s Secret sends Jill one or two catalogs per week. She’s asked them to stop, but they keep right on coming – a wave of glossy paper washing over America, loaded with overpriced underwear.
The girls in the catalog are starving. Please, throw one of them a cracker. But wait! They can’t afford crackers! And that’s because they’re spending billions of dollars printing catalogs.
I want to see someone “design” a burlap sack. I want someone to cut a hole in a burlap sack and shove a famished, heroin-addicted model into it and watch her strut down the runway like a drunken broomstick while a bunch of pretentious snoot-bags oooh and aaah. I want to hear them talk about how the “the sack is in this year.”
I want to see how many dopes pay thousands of dollars for an old bag that was once full of cattle feed.