click to enlarge [credit: jim]
It's a veritable cornucopia of crimson shame. All my favorites. Some I know, some I am meeting for the first time. Wow, I can almost smell the flea market on Paul Bear Bryant Blvd. Smells like...Turdulence!
By the way, where are the two skanky, fake blond, houndstooth hat sporting attention whores?
Thanks, Jim. Keep the farks a comin'.