Advertisement for My Gastrointestinal Support Shake

Alert, everyone with a stomach! Your gut is a washing machine full of moldy wash cloths just waiting to be bleached, and 2016 is the year of metaphorical Oxyclean! Protein shakes are out and tummy tonics are more than in…your colon. Looking to turn your stomach into a Digestive Unicorn™? Ready to ditch that customized chamber/retching pot your co-workers got you? Here’s an idea: try a blend of Your New Gastrointestinal Support Shake™. We know the two available flavors both taste like sand, but you know what tastes worse?  Your creamy indigestion. And in that way, you can be SURE we’ve got you covered, allll the way to the toilet.


If you’re looking for reasons why I’m trying My Gastrointestinal Support Shake, look no further. Read off a list of these babies to anyone else and all will agree: it’s your turn to try Your Gastrointestinal Support Shake™ on for size.


  1. Your 11th grade AP Psychology exam consisted of a few, uncontrolled internal farts, many stares, and a graceless exit through a far-away window.


  1. You’ve tried protein shakes, yogurt, and drinking straight from a cow #nofilteredmilk, but people tell me My Gastrointestinal Support Shake™ is better than slurping from the urethra of any heifer.


  1. It’s time the world sees what you’re capable of when not retching into the grunt bucket your office had personally engraved for you while cracking jokes about your decreasing quality of life. The possibilities, unlike your newly controlled IBS symptoms, are endless.


  1. When you tell people you take probiotics to homogenize the texture of your stool and face, they look at you, unconvinced, and wonder at what point in the Quidditch match you were knocked off your broomstick. Maybe they’ll believe in magic after trying your My Gastrointestinal Support Shake™.


  1. “Are you pregnant or bloated?” asked that now dead man in your freezer.


  1. Having dairy is such a burden. You decided to intentionally limit your milkshake enjoyment expectations by choosing between our Some Like it Sandy™ and We Tried™  flavors. You didn’t really want that chocolate cake milkshake or moment of happiness, anyways!


Once you’ve finally gotten off the toilet and to the store, here’s a list of ways I’ve compiled on how to consume these sandy shakes once purchased.


  1. Since you are required to have four camel-medicine size scoops in liquid per day, and that’s pretty ridiculous once you put two into a glass of water and begin to lose your mind, try separating the scoops. Have one scoop four times a day. This way, you’ll never forget that your shit owns you and that you have obligations or places to go. It’s a friendly reminder that you’re whipped by your own ass, and not the dairy kind of whipped.


  1. If you are still unable to get the shake down, try pacing through your house in a state of panic. With each pass by the kitchen table, have a swallow, and with each frantic step away from the table, remind yourself that gagging is normal and that your throat will only close after a certain point, and not this point.


  1. Deep breathing is recommended. Once you begin to drink the beach sand that is this shake, it is easy to forget that breathing is possible. Ignore this sensation and loudly wheeze to force air in.


  1. While we did provide a French Turd Vanilla™ additive for extra pleasure, it is so subtle that you will hardly notice that the shake isn’t just a pile of shit from your local dog park. It’s all about mind over body. As you swallow the shake, read the label to re-convince yourself that this is what vanilla was meant to taste like.


  1. For our final tip, we recommend staying by a toilet for at least two hours after drink. Even if you have it in four separate scoops and are shackled to the toilet until the end of your days, remember that this is what health looks like, and that this is toilet time taken charge of by you.


From the My Gastrointestinal Support Shake™ Team to you,

     Delightful Defecating!



How to Watch Hillary Debate as the Feminist You Tell People You Are

After walking into the auditorium and choosing your seat, scoot at least three chairs to the right after declaring that you are an independent woman!

Establish a code word or battle cry to chant in case of offensive material from the opposing party. Be prepared to bloody holler at the yapping offenders whether on stage or off; they will hear you. Throw popcorn if necessary.

If a male who was dragged to the debate by his wife comments that she is “looking a little bit tired,” be prepared for a gang brawl against mankind.

Bring a ruler to ensure that the length of your armpit hair equals or trumps that of your neighbors’ leg hair. Definitely no pun intended because, not only do we not mention Trump in this auditorium, we certainly don’t raise him up to the level of the beauty that is naturally growing female underarm hair. Also compare the length of your hairs to the women sitting beside you. It’s like drawing straws, but all of the hairy ladies win.

Ask the women around you how many piercings they have. As you crack a secure smirk, know that they did it for themselves and not for the idiot man next to them. You know what? Ask the men about piercings as well. It’s a free country and everyone’s entitled.

Signs You Know It’s Going to Be a Great Day!

 1. A man screams, “What do you want bitch!?” as you enter Starbucks in the morning. It’s going to be a great day!

2. After calling your doctor to confirm that your blood test results are well on their way, you are informed that, unfortunately, they “lost your urine sample, or something.” It’s going to be a great day!

3. Hours after taking out the morning trash, you notice that you have been walking around with a sanitary pad stuck to the top of your shoe; that’s a level up from toilet paper…a level up. It’s going to be a great day!

4. Hours after the sanitary pad catastrophe, you begin looking for your missing glasses only to be told that, “maybe they’re stuck to your shoe, you idiot!” It’s going to be a great day!

5. You pop your waffles into the toaster oven because your regular toaster is broken and realize that the reason why your house burned down is because you have to flip the waffle halfway through so it doesn’t burn. What is this, pancakes?? It’s going to be a great day…

6. After wishing that your bread would instantly turn to toast so you could bypass another toaster-oven catastrophe, you accidentally begin to use it as a sponge to clean the frying pan you also used to try to make toast. It’s going to be a great day!

7. You trip up the subway stairs after catching your coattail under the heel of your edgy new boots. Why do you think you’re cool enough to wear edgy boots? Who wears jackets with long coattails with edgy new boots?? Who do you think are you, Charlie Chaplin???

8. As you are frantically running past the bus you just missed, you are sprayed in the face with dirty puddle water. Dehydration’s a bitch, and that bus driver had you covered. It’s going to be a great day!

9. When you go outside to walk your dog, you step in a pile of doggy crap left by your selfish neighbor. How did he know your garden needed fertilizer?? How did he know? It’s going to be a great day!

10. As you arrive at work each day, your disgruntled boss sarcastically hollers, “thanks for tolerating me!!!” as steam comes out of his or her ears. Sarcasm is confusing, though; this means your boss is definitely not ready to fire you, right? It’s going to be a great day!

© Katie Berns Lee 2015

Ways to Impress Your Boss

1. Go to your boss’s house and put a loaf of meatloaf on his or her step. Sprinkle some basil on top for good measure; he or she will love some good basil. Back away slowly while subtly chanting “promotion, promotion, PROMOTION.”  Promise.

2. Slowly sneak up on your boss while he or she is working and surprise him or her with a creamy foot massage. They won’t be creeped out. Everyone loves the word creamy. Promise.

3. Make sure to surprise your boss by picking up their children from daycare or school without telling him or her. They won’t be expecting it and definitely won’t think someone kidnapped the kids. Promise.

4. Download the newest pirating software onto your boss’s computer, ya know, to watch stolen TV. Then, delete AdBlock so he or she can receive maximum benefit from the experience. Viruses won’t pop up and destroy the computer. Promise.

5. Take pictures of your boss before, during, and after work as part of a “private security program” that only you are a part of. Your boss will be grateful that he or she is being looked after so carefully. Promise.

6. Break into your boss’s home in order to assess his or her personal tastes. Then, buy presents according to what you have seen. Deliver weekly. Your boss will see you as the truly intuitive individual you are. Promise.

7. Something about taxidermy. Make sure your boss knows that, not only are you interested in stuffed dead things, but he or she could so be as well! Start small with a stuffed parakeet. Then, go bigger. Like lion. Try a lion. It’ll work. Promise.

8. Give them an original portrait based on the stature they assumed while dumping on the toilet. It’s just what you saw when you were peering through the bathroom window on the second floor. Innocent. They will appreciate an art original. Promise.

9. Write your boss an original song drawing from his or her ancestral roots with a corresponding dance. If he or she is Native American, wear a headdress; those aren’t offensive at all. If this isn’t hitting close to home, stage an Aztec human sacrifice. Maybe she isn’t as Indian as you thought. Promise.

10. Most importantly, make sure to tell your boss that you love him or her as you silently and slowly stroke their confused mess of hair. They will appreciate the admiration and unique sense of spine-shaking discomfort as you gently arrange their hair into a coiffure. Promise.

© Katie Berns Lee  

The Pea Soup Intervention

Equalish Brother: I am calling a group discussion intervention thing-a ma-jig about last night’s pea soup problem. I know some of you were concerned I wouldn’t remember all of the horrors so I brought in a recording of chaos breaking loose in the house as edited by the dog. Once you’ve fallen out of your chair three times and can remember one complaint, get up and smack me in the face when you’re ready.


Female Family Leader:  Man Lesser, you omitted to serve the pea soup with a ladle and instead served it with a slotted spoon. I mean really, who does that?

Man Lesser: But didn’t you say-

Female Family Leader: Buh buh buh! It’s not your turn to talk. Sit and listen.

Equalish Brother: Now, if I could just add-

Female Family Leader: Shut up!

[All eyes widen and Equal Doggy smacks Equalish Brother in the face.]

Sister Superior: [sniffles] When you dropped a bowl of soup on my lap, it wasn’t hot enough. How could you be so stupid? I should be missing at least one layer of warmed flesh!

Man Lesser: [Waves hand in the air like a psychotic twelve year-old.]

Female Family Leader: You may speak. Countdown begins now.

Man Lesser: Ok, ok, ok. You told me to heat the soup to precisely 102 degrees Fahrenheit, a hot enough temperature to begin with, but I even heated it to 102 degrees Celsius, which equals 215.6 degrees Fahrenheit. I was just…so sure it would ruin your ovaries, but I couldn’t deliver. I’m…–

Female Family Leader: Time to shut up!

[Man Lesser puts a garden hose between his buttocks to make it look like he’s a dog walking away with his tail between his legs.]

Equal Doggy: [Takes out his transmitting phonograph to speak in Dog Latin] I’m having a really hard time being on your side, Man Lesser, because, when you used the pea soup to lubricate my eye sockets, it wasn’t salty enough. I really needed to feel that Hell was approaching and you just couldn’t appeal to my sadistic side.   

Female Family Leader: Hon, I know you think it’s the woman’s role to make the pea soup and wax your back, but it’s time to wake up and realize that our hair follicles are just as bad as yours. Plus, there’s things wrong with you. And not just your personality. Your face too; there’s something wrong with your face.

Sister Superior: You’re slipping. When you waxed my back last night as I was drinking the pea soup, you literally slipped and ended up waxing my face. That’s the other problem with your soup-it made you wax my face.

Equalish Brother: The soup also did not do well when I used it as an enema. You told me it would flush the feeling right out of my colon but in reality, it flushed the colon right out of me and I had to jam it down my throat for it to settle back into my butt. Now I have to defecate in a bag-because of your pea freaking soup.

Female Family Leader: Ok it’s time for you to close your mouth, son. Let someone more important talk now.

Equalish Brother: Alright…[hot irons the smile on his face to ensure a more permanent look of suppressed chronic depression].

Equal Doggy: Everybody calm down for a minute. The real problem with the soup wasn’t that it didn’t cleanse your colon or burn through your uterus. It’s more that it just didn’t taste good. And I think we’re coming up with all these reasons why it wasn’t good for us, but there’s only one. And it’s that. And you know I’m right. So let’s just hold hands, if they’re not burnt or missing, and hum a Pea Soup Prayer for Santa Claus to hear. He’s a God, right?

Female Family Leader: I…[starts to tear up]. You’re just so…………..

[Everyone starts to tear up]

Female Family Leader: YOU’RE JUST SO DEAD [She flattens the refrigerator on Equal Dog and, realizing that he was superior to Equalish Brother, clocks Equalish Brother on the head with the very spiked ladle that could have prevented this all from happening]. [Within this time span of five minutes, Sister Superior flees to Arizona and, after receiving the wrong idea of love from her parents, marries a chicken named Coward and a coward named Chicken]. As for you, Lesser Man, you’re coming with me!

25 years later we find Lesser Man’s body in the bottom of a new man-made lake filled with rotting pea soup and some poor birds that just wanted soup but drowned trying. Poor birds.

Poor birds.

© Katie Berns Lee 2015

Things to Ask Potential Partners

1.Do you chew with your mouth open?

            A. Is there room for improvement?

2. Do you follow the rules of Simon Says with fervent sincerity or is everything just one big joke to you?

3. When is it time to shower?

    1. every day
    2. when my armpits smell
    3. when my eyes turn green
    4. right before you kick me out of the apartment. Don’t you want to save on the water bill??

4. Are the dishes meant to be done?

    1. who are you, Socrates?
    2. uhh…uhh…IS THIS A TRICK QUESTION??
    3. so you don’t always do them….?
    4. still don’t get it. you mean WHEN should YOU do them, right?

(If you chose C or D, please see me in the dark alley behind my apartment ASAP.)

5. Do you love yourself? If so, how much do you love yourself? Rate on a scale from 1-10.

6. If your answer from number five is greater than 6, would you please meet me in that same alley behind my apartment? This qualifies as a question, right?

7. Sometimes I wonder if I look fat in those pants. DO YOU?

8. If we had to jump across a cliff to safely escape zombies, could I use you as a ladder? Or would you run away like an idiot as I carefully construct us a log raft for the next leg of the journey you’re clearly not equipped for? Because I need to know now.

9. Are sports a thing for you? If so, how long do I have to pretend to care?

    1. long enough to bring me some wings, baby.
    2. why wouldn’t you care about something so…SQUIRREL!
    3. just make me and my buds some sandwiches and…[SMACK]
    4. if you could just nod your head once to let me know that you’re bored, but very much alive.

10. In terms of the wedding I’ve already planned, will you be too fat to fit into the tux I bought when I first saw you across the aisle at Publix?

    1. And could you make sure you gel your hair for our big day? I remember when I saw that scraggly hair near your left ear for the first time…when I stared at you through your fourth floor apartment window two years before we “met.”

11. Now, I’ve already rummaged through your psychological/criminal work-up. Will I find out that you’ve murdered people other than that one I already know about? Because we should cap it at that.

    1. Did you care or are you a sociopath? Would you know you didn’t care if you were a sociopath? Would you care that you didn’t know that you didn’t care if you were a sociopath? 

12. Money’s cool. Do you:

    1. spend till the end
    2. save for your friend Dave
    3. go on a binge to buy me a Benz
    4. just not care at all because Mommy and Daddy are going to take care of you for the rest of your life like the spoiled, first-born bitch you really are

(if you chose D, I’m totally into Momma’s Boys so come hither, babes)

13. Do you sleep with the TV on to drown out your pathetic thoughts or is it a white noise thing? Because if it’s a white noise thing, we’re going to have a problem.

14. How do you feel about chocolate?

    1. it’s a chick thing
    2. why is there even a question mark there?
    3. it’s why I won’t be fitting into the wedding tux you selected for me
    4. I prefer vanilla

(If you chose B, the sentence wouldn’t make sense without a question mark, so please re-evaluate your life without structure and grammar. If you chose D, please find the nearest cliff, try to scale it, fall off, and rearrange your chocolate-less brain on the rocky path below. If you feel threatened by this comment, there’s more where that came from, you idiot!)

15. If you need to cover your head, how Dad are you going to look?

    1. Fedora (you think you’re stylish, you idiot??)
    2. Helmet of Rogaine foam to cover your stupid cueball. THIS ISN’T POOL. GROW SOME HAIR.
    3. Visor with attached toupee? If we are indoors, do you take your hair off? How stupid will you look? I’ll need to know ahead of time.
    4. Cowboy hat. You know what? No. I’m not even going to let you choose this one.
  1. Are you okay with baths or do you prefer basements? Just as a sorta fun prenup precaution thinga-ma-jig, I need to know if I can easily drown you or if you would prefer a good old-fashioned suffocation if things go south. JUST IN CASE. I PROMISE.

© Katie Lee 2015

A Note to Successful People

Dear Successful People,

     What exactly is it that you have and I don’t? Is it the extra futon in your living room? Because I have that. In my neighbor’s house. Well, it’s his so technically it doesn’t count but… Or is it the fancy hair products that make your hair sway instead of fall out of your head in the breeze? Because I can do without hair, but can you? Maybe it’s the way people treat you after finding out you are a “banker” or a “soul sucking taxman who is wiring your brain into the government’s surveillance system as we speak.” Because I can do that, too. Look, I just took a picture of your butt. Who’s reputable now?? Sometimes I wonder if people wonder if I wonder about my future. Just because my cat is eating her foot doesn’t mean I can’t be a provider. I know your wife’s prosthetic arm is made of gold, but does that make her well fed? I can see her ribs. I have x-ray vision. I am Superman. If I were to ask you why your car has a horse on the front, would you not tell me it is because it makes you feel like you’re riding a pony, because you’re gay? It’s okay if you’re gay. Successful people can be gay and I can be gay, too. That’s how it works. Oh-my friend just told me that the horse means Ferrari which means it costs more than my life insurance plan. That’s fine. Regardles…you Successful People aren’t really all you say to be. If one of you would just let my cat chew on your leg for a little maybe I’d give you one of the gold stars I’ve been using to shield myself from the rain. But until then, watch yourself and be aware that I am always ready to take a picture of your x-ray visioned butt.


   Everyone Voting for Bernie Sanders and Katie

The Best Worst Places to Take a Phone Call

  1. Phoning while jogging: if you wish to expose others to the horror that is your stifled sex breathing, please wait until sex. And do it there so it’s more genuine. So basically just tell the other person, “hold on a minute, let me go have sex. Then we can continue this conversation.” No one wants to hear your “ba-dump ba-dump” bodily jog thumping unless if it is a “ba-dump” for real.

2. Phoning while peeing: if you wish to expose others to the horror that is your personal Niagara Falls of a urine flow, as well as the Rocky Mountain avalanche that is your crumbling stool, feel advised to continue doing that. Because people love that. And they will ask you to “crank it up,” referring to your bathroom habits and not the tone of your ever-distant voice.

3. Phoning while in the car with others: if you wish to expose others to the horror that is your personal conversation, feel advised to step out of the window and ruin your face on the concrete below. Everyone wants to feel like a caged torture victim, susceptible to your every cochlear implant-cracking word. Everyone!

4. Phoning while walking amidst hurricane-force winds: if you wish to expose others to the horror that is wind turbulence jettisoning through the speaker on your about-to-blow-away phone, do! It’s always nice to feel as though one is speaking through a tin can telephone while a rabid dog chews the connecting rope. Hearing is for rookies!

5. Phoning while listening to your child’s Salutatorian speech: if you wish to expose others to the horror that is you loudly making words in an attempt to outdo the token elementary school nerd, other parents will surely cheer you on! The Valedictorian really deserved the respect, so if anyone complains, tell them to buckle down, get a grip, and learn that free speech is protected by the PTA. Your child should have done better anyways.

6. Phoning while eating chicken salad (with real mayonnaise): if you wish to expose others to the horror that is you speaking while sloshing mushed chicken around in your mouth, make sure it’s sloppy enough for the person on the other end to join in for added fun. People love to picture others engaging in gag-inducing activities involving saliva and blended chicken. What a better way to cleanse your colon than to chuck everything up after listening to that?? There ain’t none.

7. Phoning while on a safari: if you wish to expose others to the horror that is the sound of your head being bitten off by a tiger, do it. DO IT. I mean, really. As the desensitized ‘Muricans we are, those on the other end of the phone would rather be listening to the crunching of your face bones than to your voice that makes me want to crunch my own bones…in my own face…by my own self. I’ll be okay.

Vegans Unite (because it takes combined protein power to change that lightbulb)

Mission statement: As the founders of the organized Religion of Veganism for You, we aim to provide a clear set of guidelines that will allow others to feel inferior as they consider our lifestyle choices and staunch mandates. Each rule is listed as #1 because this is more important and bigger than us, and because you will likely develop brain problems and be rendered unable to count to “two” after abiding by our laws.



  1. Never wear cashmere. Except if you’re willing to make a sweater out of your own fur, because that’s basically what these damn sheep are doing for you. Or if you are wearing it inside out, because then everyone will be so distracted by your stupidity that they will completely forget that you once harmed animals.


  1. Chickpeas. If someone would kindly make sure they’re not really tiny little chickens or chicken Earths with populations of new chicken species, then we can declare them safe for consumption. But if we’re really talking about it, did the chicken come before the pea or is pea soup just tender breast protein in disguise?


  1. Limit the number of yoga-doing people you interact with to under five. Per day. We think that’s reasonable, and frankly, if you’re paying for that many yoga classes, we think you may need to join Scientology instead since you’re used to paying to be abused and brainwashed by strangers on wilderness retreats.


  1. Toilet paper? No. Wanna know who uses toilet paper? Philistines. Are you a philistine? You’d rather die a meat-eating death-so let everyone else enjoy the toilet paper and you find a few leaves and a nice dumping ground in the middle of I-95. The government will thank you for your pothole-filling services and, unlike in Hinduism, cows will pray to you.


  1. Goldfish. If you are unsure as to whether or not Goldfish crackers are real fish, roll yourself up to a microscope, put the fish down, slide over one foot to the right, and smash your head on the corner of the kiddie science table that so betrayed you as you failed to recognize that fish have feelings, too.


  1. Leather shoes. If, on a scale from one to non-functioning potato science project, you are poorer or dumber than Forrest Gump, keep the shoes and seek immediate medical attention. You are likely a danger to others around you and will need to run from other vegans who will fear your inability to retain useless high-brow knowledge. And from them killers who roam I-95 in the nether regions of central Florida. They have mixed feelings about uses of leather as well.


  1. If you see a fellow vegan struggling to cross a road to get to the other side, just assume they are protein deficient. Use your emergency spare protein shake to resuscitate yourself before dragging them across the street.


  1. If you wish to ride in a horse-drawn carriage around New York City, no horse. Just carriage. Don’t use the horse. Be the carriage. You’re a vegan, remember?


  1. Technological devices are only allowed if they are Apple products. It’s been said that Dell employees eat ribs. All of them. Are you okay with that?


  1. Vegans don’t need to shower. It’s not all about us, but let’s make sure everyone else suffers to remember that.


  1. All homes must be constructed with bricks, concrete, or, if you enjoy porridge and looking like a complete idiot, straw. Mortar for your straw bricks won’t do because it has pig face in it. Instead, be self sufficient by smearing feces into the cracks to ensure that the roaches will stay in. The dung will also attract dung beetles, which you are required by vegan religious law to feed. Give them bananas. You must also provide bedding and rice waffles for them. Bitches love rice waffles.


  1. Foods to avoid: white-faced saki monkeys.


  1. Habits to avoid: over mixing gluten-free vegan pancake mix. I mean, really. If you try, it’s just one blubbery mess and the blueberries are runny and sometimes it just makes me really sad so I scream “GOD DAMMIT, why can’t we use eggs????” but then remember that I pray to other lords now and am having quite a difficult time recreating a list of expletives.


  1. If you are confused about any of the above laws, you are welcome to sign up for our monthly seminars. We will lock you in a house. In a cage. Like the animals you used to eat. We are not Scientology. Promise.


© Katie Lee 2015


New Clothing Line

Girl 1: Ooooh, look at that jacket….so SPUNKAY.

Girl 2: It looks like something some fool from the 80s would wear.

Girl 1: So me…

Girl 2: Sure, yeah…that.

Salesman: Aaaaaactually…this is our new line called “Lenore,” pronounced Leeh-no-ray [speaks like an American hollering at a foreigner] and no other way!

Girl 1: Leh-no-ree?

Salesman: No.

Girl 2: Leeh-no-pee?

Salesman: Stop.

Girl 1: Pee-doo-dee? You have-to-pee?

Girl 2: [whispers] Are we in a Dr. Seuss book…?[normal voice] Oh, very cool brand name by the way. We’re just looking and we’ll let you know if we-

Salesman: That piece, the one with the sequins…we at Lenore find it to be inspired by 80s grunge and…

Girl 2: Thanks, thanks. We just want to poke through the racks for a little. The brand is beautiful, though.

Salesman: Thank you so much! But…we at Lenore like to finish our sentences before we are told to scurry off…

Girl 1: Uhhhhh…wait so are you a designer of the brand??

Salesman: So as I was saying…inspired by 80s grunge and punk pussycat blood raunch from when Schwarzenegger was involved in knitting circles…you know that time, yes?

Girl 2: I-

Salesman: But that piece over there…someone asked me if it was 70s trolley lolley inspired and I almost vomited on her face. But, not to worry; I only do that to people who don’t let me finish my sentences.  

Girl 1: I think I’ll try on the mesh top over there.

Salesman: That one is sort of retro donkey with a tinge of that cool new potato skin remix. We like to keep our references clear but sometimes you find that idiot who isn’t on top of vegan clothing skins!

Girl 2: Is it edible?

Salesman: Please shut up.

Girl 1: Hahahaha!!!


Girl 1: Do you make these references up and are you paid to talk about potato skins and can I do this or no?

Salesman: These references are made specifically by the designer. Top fashion draws from history and-

Girl 2: So is Great Depression chic totally in? Just like smear some shit on your jacket and bash in your teeth a bit?

Girl 1: Ooooh or what about…drug addict Barbie?? Can you reference that? Do you have a wig? Can I wear a wig? Can I rip those pants? I think it would be for the sake of the reference.

Salesman: You cannot touch my-

Girl 2: But it isn’t yours…so lay off! Blahahahah-wait- what about [snotty French accent] Donald Trump Early Internet Pastiche [normal accent] where you paste on a combover and tie a dial-up cord around your neck and almost die or something hilarious like that??

Girl 1: And then, then, then, to make it super fashion reference-y what if you smash the lenses out of those bug glasses and poke your eyes out so it’s like “ohhhh man I’m blinded by the ignorance I am surrounded by!!!!” Total political statement.

Salesman: I’m going to have to take this clothing back and strangle myself with it because you are acting completely inappropriately and all I wanted to do was sell you clothing and have you feel like it meant something but you’ve ruined my life and I just decided to shave my beautiful head of hair to unburden myself from the desperate present that is my ongoing cultural referential style. And with this last breath you are free to set my face on fire and burn yourselves alive!!!!! Okay??????

[Salesman falls over edge of escalator while trying to Tarzan his way down to Hell.

Girl 1: Oh my……….

Girl 2: What…

Girl 1: What….a great idea!!!

Girl 2: So we can totally do like a self-sacrificing Tarzan martyr dating back to like Jesus time with a drop of the ironic “let’s consent to have sex” thing because frankly I’ve run out of references and I’m so about making people think I’m political.

Girl 1: I think I’ll run for President!

Girl 2: Oooooh…so just make sure your outfit screams, “slay me but in a gender-neutral 80s androgynous way!”

Girl 1: That salesman was a freak. He thought he got fashion. We get fashion.

Girl 2: Damn straight. Let’s have lunch.

Girl 1: Ok but only molded, totally 60s circle cheese today because, let’s be real, I need to fit into this blood raunch inspired dress.

Girl 2: Down.