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July 13, 2005

Fugly and the Chocolate Fuggory

Depp, you're killing me.

[Photo by Daily Celeb.]

I know we've discussed the fact that your facial hair is for the Pirates of the Carribbean movies, so I won't beg you to shave. But I will ask you to stop hiding your light underneath some sort of bad-P.I. leisure suit. You look like you'd contentedly hide in someone's dumpster in order to get proof that somebody is secretly bonking the chiropractor.

And all of this is ever-harder to digest while you are standing in front of a poster of yourself in quite possibly the most repellant costume and makeup job you've endured in recent memory. Seriously, if death is not an option, I'll take Ed Scissorhands.

You know what you need, Depp? Vanity. Spruce yourself up, pal. I know it's supposed to be all admirable that you eschew Hollywood's many shallows, and that you don't even suffer living in this town because you are So Above All That. But Johnny, let me level with you: You still star in movies. You still show up at premieres and awards shows. You are still a cog in the Tinseltown machine, even if you insist on living in France and never taking care of your hair. So why not embrace it with some nicely tailored clothes?

Come back down to our level a tad and pretty yourself back up. Be vain. Trade in your high horse for a small pony: You can still sit up there and enjoy the view, but you're close enough to our level that we can see your pretty face.

Posted by Heather at 11:27 AM | Permalink


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