Go Fug Yourself: The Fug Awards Old Fugs Got questions? Contact us About us Press Clippings Advertise with us Fug Merchandise

« Random Fug | Main | Melrose Fug »

May 03, 2005

Fugger-In-Law

To my beloved amigos on The Block,


[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Hola, my sweet bestest friends! Yes, you! From The Block! You know who you are! [And that is good, because my manager doesn't remember, and if he doesn't know, I don't fucking know and it means you haven't written me fan mail, which is only because you don't have the address, no?] [But, you can't have my address.]

Anyway, I just wanted to say hello, in case you miss me checking in with you. It has been so long! I have been through so many songs I wrote myself, and borrowed diamonds, and handbags, and phases -- currently, I am in the modest phase, can you not see? Of course you can't see... my ass! Ha ha ha! I have also been such a joker. Marc always says that he is sure that I am funny. He also says that I have never been more fascinating, now that all I do is walk around behind him and smile, and talk about babies and throw darts at photos of that Britney. Marc says I look so much nicer when I am letting him lead me and I am staring at the floor.

But this photo, this one is for you, to show you that J.Mo -- my modest side! -- is in full effect and is incredible. I am in my prime. I am satin! I am pleated! I am wearing sleeves that could eat The Block! There is more fabric in this dress than in the sum of what I used to wear in a year. I'm so into fabric! Fabric is the new naked! Marc told me, the last time we lay next to each other in the bed, that when I am lying there hidden by white satin sheets, I look like an angel. And so I took my sheets and I sewed and I strung and I made myself a dress that I can also use as a slipcover when I am on tour! I look like a goddess! I am a muse, and I have inspired millions! Look, I just inspired Marc to eat some cashew nuts -- you don't know how hard that is; he doesn't like to eat between skipping meals -- and a P.A. on the set of my new movie told me that I inspired her to become an acting coach! I am changing lives! These sleeves, the ones your lovers could fit in -- and they want to! --  have tricks up them.

And yet, I just... I have been pensive lately, see. Don't you see? Look at my face. I am pouty. And my Marc, he always says I look drunk when I pout, so I try only to pout when I am acting in a movie and the script says that my character is drunk, or sad, or brokenhearted, or relieved, or confused, or secretly happy, or outwardly joyful, or laughing. Yet here, I pout. Why? Because you never call. You never write. I write. Oh yes. I wrote a whole song for you to let you know that even though I'm on Oprah and I'm rich enough to buy The Block -- ten times! Twenty! -- I still really know where I came from, and you can tell by the number of times I say "block" and "Bronx" and by the way I now live in Miami (that is code for "block," friends!). And by the fact that I married a skeleton with a mullet. Aside from the fact that we are madly, desperately in love, and we sing songs and stroke each other, my Marc is a symbol of our passion, preciosos! He IS The Block: Hard, sharp corners, small enough to walk over about a million times a day. When I make sweet, passionate like with Marc, it is like I am liking each one of you! Five minutes a day!

I do all this for you, and it's been years now, and nada. None of you ever come to visit or come to my premieres. No, you leave me to hang out with my rich friends and my cowhide husband, shitting on gardenias and carrying handbags and wearing enormous satin sleeves -- all without anyone around to envy me! Who am I if no one wants to be me? Why, then I'm no better than America's Other Sweetheart, Meg Ryan, and... dios mio, I don't want to talk about that!

Anyway, I have to go, all this pouting is making me want to go stand a few feet behind my husband. But one last time -- behold me in all my Casper-inspired glory, so that I can haunt your dreams like the fashionable ghost of love that I am!

Besos,
Mrs. Jennifer Lopez Noa Judd Anthony

Posted by Heather at 03:03 PM in Jennifer Lopez | Permalink

 

eXTReMe Tracker