Beverly Hills, 90210 Battles Violence Against Women, Like What Brenda's Thong Is Doing
The 'Dead End' Visual Aids are also trying to smother you in Jack McKay's many turtlenecks.
Listen along with the "Dead End" podcast for our more elaborate thoughts on all this brutal violence...against good taste.
If the Taylor/Silvers are already experiencing money problems, leaving the milk out on the counter throughout breakfast so it can go sour and have to be thrown out and wasted is not going to help.
Weigh in: what's with this new, jank-looking "outdoor" set?
I think if Kelly really tried, she could fit one more ornamental pocket flap on this blazer.
GET A T-SHIRT TO COVER YOUR CHEST HAIRS, YOU WORK NEAR FOOD.
This is the face of a man who's letting a dumb kid slide on a debt because he'd like to break his legs for him later.
This is a women's self-defense course, but Brenda's latest up-the-butt leotard is not really down with the cause.
God bless and keep Ian Ziering and his collection of gorgeous reaction shots.
God damn the sweat pants that are making Brenda's thong so very, very visible.
REMEMBER WHEN THE WORST THING ABOUT BRENDA'S PANTS WAS HOW THEY SHOWED HER THONG?!
Meet the first of Jack McKay's many turtlenecks. Don't think too hard about whether he has anything on under those white slacks.
Can you explain this wallpaper choice? It looks like a bag of aquarium rocks exploded. (...Too soon?)
But get a load of the Haute Spelling decor story on this boat!
Not every woman's garment needs shoulder pads, THE '90s.
The forehead wrinkles that remind a doting father to send his "teenaged" son to "high school."
The glare that may be intended to relax those wrinkles and distract a teen viewer from an actor's actually rather advanced age.
Jim? Punch this kid. His own dad wasn't around to do it!
Peep Jack's Black Turtleneck Of I Mean Business.
You might be forgiven for thinking this is less kissing than Dylan trying to suck snake venom out of a wound in Kelly's mouth.
The wink of My Girlfriend Went Home Because I Wore Her Out, Sexually.
The Turtleneck of My Boy Fuckin'!
This is a bomb, but doesn't it look like a package of flash cubes? (Ask your grandparents.)
It's feast or famine in the sweat pants department with this guy.
What was that, Dylan? No?
So: definite no. Got it. (Bye Jack! Bye, Jack's sweat pants and turtlenecks!)