She sees you coming a mile away.
Plus the goatish goatherd.
Mothers, hide your kids. And your husband. Maybe the dog, too.
Pounding pavement or hitting the grass?
Awesome middle-ground Celtic Frost worship.
Now who's a loser, Cheryl?
Pop art at its most vital.
Your Porsche is a sign of weakness.
"Lucifer? Lucifer MORNINSTAR! It's Ned, Ned Ryrerson!"
Hole in the head.