It is understandable when we see Pat Riley softening his crow's feet with daubs of foundation or Farkas rouging her cheeks to dazzle the lads but when Rob, our last hope for normalcy in VICE Records, is caught checking his lipstick provacatively it is disconcerting. Thankfully our highly illegal and poorly hidden bathroom cam nailed him mid purse and and now we know what to get him for Christmas.
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1 comment:
God, Vice Records couldn't get any better. Who's at the help of human resources here, hiring Pixie Dust Rob?
I am so sick of indie know-it-alls thinking they can dress however they want.
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