The last time I saw this 'bag I was aiming my laser gun at his forehead while playing "The House of the Dead" in the lobby of the Loews discount movie theater on 52nd Street and 9th Ave in the mid 90s. I'm still pissed about having to pay 75 cents to play that game. Although blowing off this undead scrote's head was worth any amount of quarters.

I'm not sure that that facial hair is human. Busting the "death metal t-shirt + sportscoat" look has to qualify for uberdouche status. And look at how he holds that drink. It's wrong. So terribly wrong.

Blondie's skinnyness makes me see and appreciate bulimia in a whole new light.