A.P.C. isn’t serious, right? Like, there’s no way they actually think people are going to buy these. Do they think we’re that stupid? Well, the jokes on you A.P.C. because there’s no way in fucking hell I’m buying a pair of tapered Wranglers for $180. Nope, not happening. There’s a better chance of me getting a dirty sanchez from both of Brett Favre’s daughters. Actually, the more and more I think about, the more I realize that the joke is actually on us. A.P.C. is giving us the #1 pair of jeans we need to bring home a flim-flam-floozy from Long Island—helping us blend in the with the cattle and shit. I see you A.P.C., respect. These French motherfuckers know how to play the game. Grab your pair, then head on over to Brother Jimmy’s to find Tammy. Tell her James sent you. Small teeth, that one.
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