As the rain ceases and the clouds clear the sky, it's time for Blue States Lose, wherein we selflessly sift through fucktard photos on The Cobrasnake, Last Night’s Party, Misshapes, and Ambrel. After the jump, Joey Arak shows you his armpit piercings.

10) Last Night's Party. 6.6.6. photo #3952: What does it say about New York that the Cult of Leotard Fantastic is actually turning into a legitimate fashion trend? We couldn't give a shit, but we love that the girl on the left is already trying to break off into a "Fantastic-in-Versailles" micro-trend. Que magnifique!

9) Last Night's Party. Black & Blue (Pt. 1) photo #2358: "Mmm...Henrietta. Your style of massage is unorthodox, but I wouldn't have it any other way!"

8) NSFW Last Night's Party. Black & Blue (Pt. 2) photo #2444: Let's make two things clear before we start this one. (1) This photo is totally not safe for work. (2) We usually like to keep the subject matter of BSL limited to hipsters, leaving out Last Night's Party's dalliances with goth-sex Dungeons and Dragons or whatever, but this one has too important a lesson to pass up. If you're going to be that girl doing the whole boobs-out thing, and you take the time to paint black hearts over your nipples and artfully dribble fake blood on your flesh, and you do the whole eye-makeup thing, and you perfect the sultry blank stare, can you please please please make sure we can't see your deodorant? Is that, like, too much to ask? Because we're really only asking one thing.

7) Last Night's Party. 6.6.6. photo #3862: "Pip here! I'm the first mate on this here S.S. Dandypluck. Want to see how I dance for nickels tossed by the seamen? Watch your legs! I've taken 'em out before, I have I have!"

6) Misshapes. June 3, 2006 photo #284: Does anyone else think that Leotard Fantastic is secretly jacked? Like, if you tore off this librarian sweater and revealed only the leotard lurking beneath, he would look like Jean Claude Van Damme cira Lionheart or something? Nah, us neither.

5) Last Night's Party. 6.6.6. photo #3879: "I know it's 6/6/06 and all, but am I going to do anything different to mark it? Fuuuuuuuuuck no. It's just going to be the same old Quorthon the Wicked. OK, OK...maybe I'll wear a bowtie. But that's it, I swear."

4) The Cobrasnake. Seafood Dentist photo #2774: Look, we always knew that doing this column week-in and week-out would result in us stealing occasional glances of the apocalypse, but we could have never guessed that the vision of humanity's impending doom would look like an ad for Big Tobacco. Blame the trust fund, we guess.

3) The Cobrasnake. Seafood Dentist photo #2452: NYC may be all about the Leotard Fantastic look right now, but LA is clearly all about the early-'80s-third-grader meets mom's-hits-the-flea-market. The worst New York outfits we see are always 10x better than the stupid shit we see on The Cobrsnake. You can almost hear their conversation now: "Yeah, I'm taking a couple classes at art school, but whatever...I think I'm just gonna hang out for a while, you know?"

2) Misshapes. June 3, 2006 photo #017: Everyone knows that we love The Other Dude to death, but the guy is one stupid flower hat away from being rechristened "Six." (Jenna Von Oy, anyone?) And we know they haven't put up any Misshapes photos in a few weeks, but was that really enough time for TOD to grow an extra six inches of hair? Is that the source of his added sass? Or is it ... something else?

1) Misshapes. June 3, 2006 photo #110: You can't be serious. Are you fucking serious? You're 16-years-old, you're from Danbury, you're wearing something you stole from your sister's laundry basket and you're looking to the freakish lead singer of Hot Hot Heat as a style influece. God, can't you sit on MySpace and watch repeats of The O.C. like every other normal kid this summer? Or are you too busy scrubbing your white pants and figuring out the best way to hang your suspenders down? Shit, man, it's time for Misshapes to accept some personal responsibility for a change and put a stop to this. They're turning the youth of this nation into an army of poofy daints through the hypnotic effects of playing the same 6 Brit-pop songs over and over and over and over again.