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May 13, 2008

Fug and the City

KRISTIN: Oh... my!

CYNTHIA: Wow, it's so... wow!

KIM: I seriously cannot believe this bitch.

SJP: Why, hello, photographers! I'm here! Can you believe our little show blossomed into a movie?

KRISTIN: I'm not stuck sitting behind her, am I?

CYNTHIA: Nah, I'm sure they gave that seat to Kim.

KIM: Seriously, NO ONE is looking at me, and that is not normal. Hello? Everyone? I'm the naked sex maniac! I'm the one that supposedly hates all these clowns! LOOK AT ME!

SJP: It's amazing what the show has done! I mean, you plant a seed, and it just grows and grows...

KRISTIN: At least this way no one's noticing that Kim and I are in the same color, or that her hair is kinda pointy.

CYNTHIA: Or that your boobs look kind of strange in that.

KRISTIN: Hey, whose side are you on?

SJP: ... and you can either cut off the flower and put it in a vase to die, or you can let the bees get into it and spread the pollen, and create a garden of comedy...

CYNTHIA: I'm hypnotized. Kim is going to cut her.

KIM: I AM GOING TO CUT HER.

SJP: ... and you water it, and suddenly it blossoms into a mature flower...

KRISTIN: Ten bucks says Kim snaps in five minutes.

CYNTHIA: Double or nothing says it's two.

KIM: Oh, I'll snap. I'll snap her like a twig. There is a GIANT living up there and it's called HER EGO and so I have to CHOP DOWN HER BEANSTALK.

SJP: ... and I will NOT put Carrie Bradshaw in a vase! She's too remarkable. I needed the world to keep holding the hosepipe that waters the garden of Carrie.

KIM: I am going to water her head-garden with a little hose I call THE TOILET BOWL.

KRISTIN: You know, I might be okay with that.

CYNTHIA: At this rate we'll have to film the sequel in separate rooms and splice it together.

KIM: That's assuming she doesn't wear an entire POTTING SHED on her head at the U.S. premiere...

SJP: Oh, hi, guys. When did you get here?

KIM... in which case, there will be no sequel because I will have shoved a pitchfork up her nose.

CYNTHIA: And that's $20 to me, please, Kristin.

Posted by Heather at 09:04 AM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

May 12, 2008

For a Good Fugging Cause

Recently, Heather and I were thrilled and honored to be asked to contribute a doodle to USA National Doodle Day. Doodles like ours are being auctioned on eBay from now through May 18th to benefit NF. Inc, an organization which helps people and families impacted by neurofibromatosis, one of the most common genetic disorders in the United States. NF causes tumors to form on your body's nerves -- any time, and anywhere. There is no cure. But funds raised from Doodle Day auctions will help support education and research that could change all that. So how could we resist putting pen to paper?

It turns out that Heather and I have... limited artistic ability, shall we say?

I have been working on that Lady With Chin In Profile through YEARS of math classes, and only seasonal restrictions prevented me from sticking her head next to the only other thing I can draw: a Christmas tree. Heather, on the other hand, shows some rudimentary skill at sketching my bangs. ["But I am paralyzed by the inability to sketch anything that isn't a stick figure, with the lone exception of the blazingly true-to-life five-legged horse I drew in elementary school." -- Heather] But it's all in the name of a very good cause! So if you'd like to take our masterpiece home, eBay has made it just as easy as bidding on a pair of Louboutins in the middle of the night after a few cocktails. Bid! Bid! Bid!

And if if turns out you'd rather take home a mermaid doodled by Winnie Cooper, a seriously stellar drawing by Seth Green, or a deeply awesome sentiment aptly expressed by Wanda Sykes, or one of many, many other groovy doodles...well, we understand. I mean, if we'd thought of writing "I love butter too, y'all," we would have. Because we do.

Posted by Jessica at 01:21 PM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

Fug or Fab (or Feh): Lindsay Lohan

So, it seems that LiLo's leggings line is actually happening. I swear to God, I thought the whole thing was a joke. I am going to continue to believe that, actually, if only to save my own already fragile sanity. But at least she's stopped showing up places wearing them ALL THE TIME:

I don't hate the top, I love the shoes, I am amused that her jeans are as leggings-esque as possible, and I am not going to talk about the tan, the blonde Dina hair, or the so-1998 "Lindsay" charm necklace. Maybe she's just wearing that because she's really stoked about the Sex and the City movie, and tomorrow we'll see her out and about with a giant flower pinned to her label and a tutu skirt, making out with a picture of Chris Noth. She looks... fine. I guess. I don't know. I'm in that place with Lindsay where I am psychologically conditioned to care but kind of don't anymore. I think they call that closure.

Posted by Jessica at 12:54 PM in Fug or Fab, Lindsay Lohan | Permalink | E-mail this fug

Alison Fugfrapp

It's been almost a year, but my fascination with Alison Goldfrapp's name has not waned. It's started to infect my thought process -- the other day, as I filled up my car, I actually thought to myself, "Gas prices have totally goldfrapped this year," and then later lamented that it's not actually in the dictionary and therefore doesn't count in a Scrabble or Boggle game. Perhaps I need to start a push to put it into the lexicon. Or at least name a baked good after her -- chocolate-dipped goldfrapp sounds like it has real potential.

Anyway, as you can imagine, when I stumbled across this picture I almost goldfrapped all over my computer screen:

It's like she's only now realizing that she skipped the day in Clown College when they covered pants.

Posted by Heather at 12:11 PM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

Fug Fug Must Die!

There is something to be said for a celebrity who is willing to show up places with the kind of image makeover that makes you snort, "you have got to be kidding me." Like Whatshisnuts McGillicudy here from Desperate Housewives:

Jesse Metcalf! Phew, I knew his name would come back to me. Kind of like a bad seafood platter. Let's take a look at the close-up, shall we?

Continue reading "Fug Fug Must Die!"

Posted by Jessica at 11:17 AM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

She's All Fug

For those of you who are not afflicted with the sickness of turning on She's All That whenever you notice it's airing on cable, Rachael Leigh Cook rose to fame as the "freak" whom Freddie Prinze Jr.'s friends picked for him to turn into an unlikely prom queen, blind to her obviously hot bod, big boobs, and pretty face because she dared to wear paint-stained overalls (WHOA!!) and glasses (NOOOO!!!!!!!!).

Today, I yearn for those overalls.

This unflattering, blah satiny thing feels so department-store dated, like she dug it out of the sale rack three years ago to wear to an Easter brunch with her parents, and only brought it out again because she forgot to pick up her dry cleaning. And combined with the new haircut -- which resembles the output if you chucked Christina Ricci and Britney Spears into a blender -- she's so washed-out and plain. It's like a reverse makeover. Maybe there's a sequel called She's All That: Well, Not So Much, Actually, in which someone dares the school nerd to take the prom queen and turn her into wallpaper.

Posted by Heather at 09:03 AM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

May 09, 2008

I'm a Celebrity, Fug Me Out of Here!

Obviously, one doesn't look to UK celebrity nudist Katie "Jordan" Price for fashion tips. And yet:

My question is, considering that this is the woman who once said she wouldn't wear any skirt longer than 9 inches, does she think this gold item is a belt, or a skirt? I feel like it might be the latter. And that scares me. 

As does the fact that she's starting to resemble a wax figure more than ever --- which I didn't think was possible -- but that's a frightening tale for another day.

Posted by Jessica at 01:27 PM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

Well Played, Mariah Carey; Not So Much, Patti LaBelle

Maybe my heart is just soft because the drama of a sudden wedding is supremely soapy, or because Mimi has turned both her bodyguard and her new husband into frantic wranglers of gargantuan umbrellas. But I think she looks fantastic here.


[Photo: Splash News]

How cute is that? I don't CARE if the wedding may have been a giant publicity stunt to help her single, or to remind the world that her video co-star Nick Cannon still exists (I had, as a matter of fact, happily forgotten). She seems happy, and I like my Mariah smiling and divalicious, not tragic and sad and fatigued and speaking in tongues. So I choose to believe it's real, and that in ten years the Carey-Cannons will be cuddling adorable babies and skipping down Rodeo Drive shopping for shoes -- and possibly purchasing and coaching a youth soccer team they can call the Carey Cannons,  because it sort of works -- instead of subjecting the reality-TV audience to copious icky conversations about the functionality of her bowels (Whitney and Bobby, I will never, ever forgive you).

Also, I want that coat-dress. It's WAY better than the one her fellow big-voiced diva Patti LaBelle recently whipped out on-stage:

Continue reading "Well Played, Mariah Carey; Not So Much, Patti LaBelle"

Posted by Heather at 12:12 PM in Well Played | Permalink | E-mail this fug

NYFug.com: The Fug Awards: The Best and Worst of the Costume Institute Gala

Face it: An event isn't really an event unless someone is handing out awards. So you're welcome, Met Ball. You're welcome. Sure, the awards we're handing out this week on NY Mag.com are totally facetious, but aren't those the most fun? For example:

"Best Befuddlement: If life were The Hills, Maggie Gyllenhaal's dress would be the Justin Bobby to our Audrina: Even though it felt wrong, we kept going back for more."

Read more -- including who is in the Least Alluring Rut, who presented the Best Application for AARP Membership, and  who put her Worst Face Forward -- over in the cozy, loving confines of NY Mag.com.

Posted by Jessica at 11:12 AM in Met Ball, NYFug.com | Permalink | E-mail this fug

Fugsin Murphy

Poor Roisin. I hope that thing turns out to be benign:


[Photo: Splash News]

It's starting to interfere with the part of her brain that usually knows well enough to leave Sophia Petrillo's Easter Sunday dress in the closet.

Posted by Heather at 10:25 AM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

Think of Fug, Think of Fug Fondly

So, it's Friday, which means it's Embarrassing Admissions Day here at GFY. Usually, this is where I talk about something horrifyingly shameful, like how I sometimes give myself a beehive when I'm home and bored, or how I cry at Whirlpool commercials sometimes, or how I sat through all of I Know Who Killed Me this weekend (DON'T DO IT TO YOURSELF [though Lindsay still has some residual charisma in it. (but it is EMBARRASSINGLY bad [and not even in a funny way (most of the time)])]).

Today, I admit to you all that I think I am in love with Sarah Brightman. I mean, look at her:

She is crazy. And awesome. And tiny. And probably a total wackjob. But how can you not love a woman who attends a classical music awards event covered in multiple pelts -- one of which is spectacularly poofy-skirted -- and thigh high leather dominatrix boots? I'm not being sarcastic. That coat is fabulously over the top even without the boots, but this combo makes her look CRAZY and RAD. I don't know what movie she thinks she's starring in, but I want to see it.

Posted by Jessica at 09:15 AM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

May 08, 2008

Fug the Cover: Scarlett Johansson

I guess none of ScarJo's "Five Dads" taught her to avoid looking like a bizarrely coiffed alien on the cover of magazines? Huh. You'd think one of them would have covered that.

Posted by Jessica at 12:59 PM in Fug The Cover | Permalink | E-mail this fug

The Fuggy

Oh, Nicholle Tom. Whatever crimes your breasts committed -- being difficult to fit into a button-down shirt without the top few buttons gaping, for example, or being prone to itching in business meetings -- do they really deserve to be thusly confined in a prison of fabric?

Photobucket

PS: I think you might be wearing this backwards.

Posted by Jessica at 12:09 PM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

Fugsana Baiul

Oh, Oksana. Welcome back.

I missed you and your flair for the obvious, your fondness for anything shiny and flimsy, and your uncanny ability to wear things that nobody else has seen at any store in the world, ever. Did you make this? Did you wake up one morning and scream, "It's a SPORTS EVENT! I should design a SILVER DISCO TRACKSUIT," and then slave away at your sewing machine for two weeks until you finally made it as synthetic as possible? That's really quite sweet. A love story, if you will, between woman and machine. When Lifetime has to resort to Celebrity Project Runway -- in about six months -- you'd make a wonderfully unique contestant. I can't wait for the episode in which you and Kellie Martin are paired up in the Design New Prison Jumpsuits For All The Murderesses Susan Lucci Has Played In Our Movies challenge, and you come to blows with Tori Spelling and Yasmine Bleeth over the right to a bolt of paisley terrycloth. Suddenly Lifetime seems like it might be the best thing to happen to Project Runway since Laura Bennett.

Posted by Heather at 11:21 AM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

Fugalot


[Photo: Splash News]

"...Yeah, you know what? This is bad. Really bad. WHY, again, did I think I should do Spamalot with my own hair? That's what WIGS are for, dammit! Instead I'm wandering around looking like a middle-aged Manilow wannabe wearing a sweater made of airport carpet. How did it come to this? Where are my frosted tips? Whither the spikes? WHY AM I SO FRUMPY? I'M A GODDAMN HEARTTHROB TO GRANDMOTHERS EVERYWHERE! You know what? Get me Ryan Seacrest. He'll fix this. He fixes everything. Oooooh, and tell him to bring donuts."

Posted by Heather at 10:15 AM | Permalink | E-mail this fug

 

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