All my pink clothes were covered in gasoline and torched.
It's good enough for the Inquisition, it's good enough for me.
It makes me less conspicuous at drive-by shootings.
I wouldn't want to clash with my future.
Colors come and go, but black is always in style--just ask a funeral director.
By the end of the day, I hate all my co-workers. Even in clothing, it's good to prepare for mood swings.
It matches my combat boots.
Burgeondy is too hard on the eyes.
It hides the stains of being trampled under society's heel real good.
99.99% of the endless abyss of space can't be wrong.