I remember one time in sixth grade this kid Chad brought a Victoria’s Secret catalog to school and we were all like, “Dude, duh, but what are you doing bringing that to school? We use that to masturbate too. Masturbating stuff stays at home.” I probably know as much about lingerie now as I did back then. Basically, all the best bras in the catalog had phrases like “dramatic décolletage” in the descriptions. Which, TRU.

In everyone’s minds, the Victoria’s Secret runway show should probably be a pretty sensual affair, taking place in New York or even better, Paris. It’s private and intimate and there’s low light and...NAH. This shit is a giant explosion of weirdness, my dude. There are wings and strange pop stars and the always creepy and unnecessary SVU ready mingling of "sexy" and "cute". Let's judge some of the wildest looks from last night's show.