Overall, this is the worst game of Fuck Marry Kill I’ve ever seen. Sophie’s choice was easier to make. Anyway, from left to right, kinda:
Garcia, put that thing away: your stump’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.
Wow, Mickey: you found a Dead shirt. Also, that is not the haircut of a rock star: that is the haircut of a prep school kid who quotes Heidegger correctly, loves all animals, and then–the day he’s elected Prom King–gets t-boned by a drunken preacher in a Ford Taurus racing ashamedly away from an assignation with local transsexual sex worker Big Dicked Sheila.
What. The. Fuck.
Phil is adorable. I don’t know how else to put it. Maybe it’s that tight tuck he’s rocking..
Billy has my favorite of his haircuts: the Ace of Diamonds (named after its most famous wearer, Neil Diamond.) Medium length on top, combed (over?) sideways; big, poufy, blow-dried goodness for the back and sides. Aqua-Net as needed.
Also: Billy is holding an iPhone because Billy has no regard for Time Sheath secrecy protocols.
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