Your Daily Reminder of the Unmatched Superficiality of TOR
This is what I'm talkin' 'bout Bobbo. No more tracky bottoms as those are for Chavs. No more sweatshirts, those are for sorority girls to wear while they are doing laundry. And no more polos; a gentleman only wears those when in the saddle, mallet in hand. Or at a corparate retreat.
The crisp shirt and Timberlake trousers are you cousin, I'm telling ya. Keep rockin' it like that and you'll be fighting off Jogi Loew and Bert van Marwijk for a place in the 2014 Fashion Final. Count it!