Personally, I find the entire ordeal vulgar. Tight end, wide receiver, penetration play—I mean, at a certain point, we need to ask: are we watching a game or some deeply repressed homoerotic ritual? Subject: Sports

16:30 Cyclist runs a red light. Imagined accelerating. Didn’t do it. Wearing Valentino. Bloodstains are permanent. JUNE XX, XXXX

You don’t use soap to impress. You use it to strip away the artifice. No preservatives, no perfumes, no pretensions. Just the raw, archaic violence of fat and lye made noble through ritual. A soap that doesn’t try to seduce—it judges you. It remembers your sins. Subject: Soap

There's something unspeakably lazy about a grown man baring that much leg in public—it's as if he's given up entirely on the concept of tailoring. Even in oppressive heat, you can maintain dignity... If your self-worth evaporates with the humidity, you never had it in the first place. Subject: Shorts

It’s the equivalent of a midnight whisper with a straight razor hidden beneath the pillow. Bond-era, yes — but more importantly, gentleman assassin energy. Charcoal paint. Cream interior. Gunmetal rims. You don’t race it. You arrive in it. Even the V12 doesn’t roar — it growls. Like something beautiful that might kill you if you ask too many questions. Subject: Supercars