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Images via Mr Porter
I generally fuck with sweaters, so it should come as no surprise that I fuck with this Alpaca-blend sweater from Etro. In fact, I fuck with it particularly hard. Lookatdatshit: it’s fire. You know what’re also fire? Alpacas. Or vicugna pacos as Linnaeus would call them. Who needs fancy synthetic materials when you have the harvested fibers of the world’s second smallest camelid? Silly question. Obviously there is plenty of room for textiles of all origins, including, but not limited to, various lab-engineered polymers. This sweater itself contains nylon, a lightweight polyamide with a heavyweight history. And now, tonight’s weather report. Sorry, guys, I blacked out and slipped into my unnecessary newscaster character. Bad news: something in your home could be killing your children. The even worse news? It’s your favorite possession. Tonight at eleven: how to protect your family from otherwise certain death. On a lighter note, the local fire station played host to a kitten festival yesterday, as firefighters and neighborhood residents gathered to celebrate the area’s youngest feline citizens. Tonight at eleven: tragedy strikes at a local kitten festival, when the revelers get their paws on a batch of tainted catnip. Stay with us for more breaking news about this horrific cat-astrophe. Tonight at eleven. More at eleven. EVERYTHING AT ELEVEN. I cannot calm down until every single secret is revealed. Danger is around every corner. Evil is lurking in the heart of every man, woman, and child. Everyone’s house is on fire, at all times. Enjoy the sweet embrace of false hope for the low, low price of the intrinsic dignity that is the inalienable birthright of all humans. The future is calling, but the caller on the other end of the line is just a sun bleached skeleton with a snake perpetually slithering in through the mouth and out through the eye sockets. The news is really fucking metal, bro -RB
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