Damn thee McGee.

So Jo and I, angry at Schick over their substandard razor and return policy, were concocting a fake plan to blow up Gillette. The fact that, as pinkos we're obligated to hate big corporations was just a pleasant, coincidental part of the scheme.

This picture? One I took of Jo on a late night grocery store run. Shows the evil genius at work.

Jowan: okay, but you get the explosives this time
they always give me dirty looks

Toni: well, they're kind of snobbish at Crazy Joe's Explosives Depot. i'll do it i guess.
whatever, i mean i came up with the plan and i'm getting the explosives...i'm just wondering what your part in this whole plan is

Jowan: crazy moustache twirling

Toni: believe it or not, i can do that
so really, you're not holding up your end of this partnership
i might have to go find some new help

Now here's where the magic happens
Jowan: please! i mean you may be irish, and that's adorable, but I think you should really leave the heavy terrorism to the experts
I mean can the irish even grow moustaches?

Toni: you've just made my life. i hope you understand that. and i'm posting this immediately