THE RULES
For power dressing
SAY GOODBYE TO SANDY AND YOUR SWEATER SET.
You’re a bad biatch now. Restock your wardrobe with
clothes that require a lubricant to slip into.
Grease is the word!
NO MONEY? Don’t worry about it, sis, make your own clobber if needs be. You’ll be looking purrfect and feline fine
in no time. Claws optional. BE DROP DEAD IN RED. Show off your swerves in a sexy scarlet number. Then take a long, hard look in the mirror and ask yourself,
“Why the hell am I fucking a rabbit?”
SUIT UP. Go to work in your power loader and you can bet your bottom dollar that Debs from accounts won’t steal your tuna sarnie again: “Get
away from my sandwich, bitch!”
NOW UNDRESS TO THRILL. All those gym sessions are starting to pay off, bruv. Check out those abs. Right, back to the task at hand, where
did I leave my axe…
WHAT DOES YOUR DRESS SAY ABOUT YOU?
Designer only please — even psychopaths have style. Picking the perfect lewk is always a ‘ mare though because of all them voices in your head
SPEAKING OF PUSSIES… keep your underwear drawer closed. Freeball it. Look your victim intently in the eye, slowly uncross your legs, letting a hairy, wrinkly testicle tumble down, then cross back over again. Femme fatale masterclass complete CHOOSE YOUR ACCESSORIES WISELY. Guess what, hun, not everything goes with a chainsaw
BE TWO- FACED — MASK! Scream, Michael Myers, Hannibal Lecter… those guys ( and gals) really did dress to kill. Best served with fava beans and a nice chianti