I'm thinking this must actually be some sort of ditz detector... which alerts the cosmo-bots at the face-spackle counter to the presence of borderline morons... who will buy into pretty much anything some cutting edge fashionista stoner might dream up.
And who exactly are the folks who can rhyme off the personal experiences and vital statistics of all the bimbos getting boinked by professional athletes? I mean... besides Lloyd Robertson?
Could we possibly dumb life down any more than this?
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UPDATE: So, the question was...
...what kind of a moron... and well, of course...
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