I Can't Look At You Anymore, Tom Brady
It's already hard for me to look at Tom Brady, because he has the exact same haircut as the little snide bitch in my 2nd grade class who asked me if I had vagina (Which dim dumb me said "yes" to, because I wasn't really sure what a vagina was. The junior twat got me that time.). But now I really have to make my lids hug my eyeballs whenever I see him on the street (since I always see Tom Brady on the streets of real life), because his full name and soul print now shows up on ADP's payroll list of all of Satan's employees!
Hell's second footwear of choice already siphons out the spirit of Midwestern tweens and whory Malibu moms (who wear that mess with coochie cutters and see-through cotton shirts) through the bottom of their feet, and now they're going after men. And Tom Brady is helping them to carry out their dork-sided (Never 4 Get God Warrior) plans!
With a precious bob haircut like that, Tom should be using his beauty to sell Dutch Boy Paint, Easy Bake Ovens or Subarus. Not whoring for Illuminatiwear. But the only thing keeping me from switching out Tom's pomade with gel made from the Blood of Christ is the fact that he's never actually seen wearing UGGs in that commercial. Maybe a centaur of the ninth circle is his UGGsdouble. And by a "centaur of the ninth circle" I mean Gisele.