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Well, looky here, mes amis, if it ain’t some good ole Adidas Gazelles (available in Nomad Yellow, Purple/Solar Yellow, and a gaggle of other colors I’m too lazy to show you), ready and willing to encapsulate your weary feet or as we call them around these parts “dogs”. The latter bit is quite false: never have I ever called feet “dogs” -- until now. I guess this is existence for me from now on. I have to call feet “dogs” forever. I can’t even keep using quotation marks around them. Dogs. It will never feel right. Okay, I’m totally lost. Oh yeah, shoes. Put them on your foot dogs or dog feet or whatever the fuck. Everyone already loves the Gazelles, right? They’re awesome. Look at those colors. We should all buy a pair. If you don’t already love the Gazelles, I doubt my meager prose will suffice to sway your mind. I’m unequivocally correct, but convincing someone to change an opinion is a nearly impossible task [Editor’s note: Unless that someone is Donald J. Trump! Bazinga!]. Imagine if any or all of the members of Chumbawamba turned up on your doorstep and tried to convince you that their music and haircuts were good. You would set the dogs on them. Actual, non-foot dogs. Preferably big, angry ones that hate shitty bands from the 90s. When is the last time you thought about Chumbawamba? If you answered “recently”, please explain those thoughts in the comment section. I honestly need to know what compelled your brain to squeeze a now-defunct anarcho-pop one-hit-wonder (don’t even try to argue with that) from its fleshy folds. Random question: it’s a commonly accepted fact that the President has tiny hands, but does he also have tiny dogs? Maybe there are some things the American public should never know -RB
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