Poor Nora. The travesty of Hungarian Eve Dallas, it does not stop.
Sarah: “You know, when I have REALLY bad gas, I bend over a bit, and BAM, a ghostly child and a laser-sighted gun come flying out my colon. Then I feel much better.”
Candy: Tsk tsk, Sarah. Farting an intricate shape like a child’s face takes skill and a touch of magic, yo, like blowing smoke rings. Think of Gandalf in the movie version of The Fellowship of the Ring. This woman? She’s Gandalf, man. A motherfucking artiste.
Though from the way her mouth is gaping open a little, I wonder if she accidentally released a bit of saucy accompaniment to her artistry, if you know what I mean, AND I THINK YOU DO.
Sarah: This cover debuts the new Photoshop knifeguide tool, which allows plastic surgeons to practice virtual surgery on the very, very stupid looking.
Candy: Dude, what is it with the models for these covers opening their mouths just so? Honestly, the artists need to stop using Real Dolls for their models.
Sarah: You know that woman is thinking, “Hold up. I’m about to be knifed by Siegfried? This is not cool.” And he’s all, “Bitch, I’m no Siegfreid. I’m The Hoff!”
Candy: Yeah, this is what you get when you HASSEL the HOFF! *cuts a bitch*