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September 18, 2006

Fugly Crawfug

It pains me to fug a lady who is rocking the aging process -- real or artificial -- as hard as Cindy Crawford is. Seriously, nips and tucks or not, she looks fantastic (and any work she bought is top-drawer; certain celebrities hell-bent on surgery should call her for a referral, KENNY ROGERS), and I hope her husband is suitably appreciative and worshipful, and not some sort of Mr. Christie Brinkley asshat who thinks nailing an 18-year old makes him important.

At any rate: The transgression here is, sadly, one with which we're all too familiar here on Go Fug Yourself.

Yes, that appears to be a glittery dress, and yes, those are pants: Two great tastes that go down bitterly together and form a sour, acid cocktail of rage in our bellies -- one that no tube of Tums could ever banish. Adding insult to injury is the fact that the dress looks like it cost $5; now, while I have no problem with cheap clothes, I do find it's best to snag the ones that don't look like they cost $5, nor as if you stole them from a box in a studio costume shop labeled, "Reject bin: Mannequin." And I really would not follow up that little act of sticky-fingered larceny by drawing attention to it by pairing it with trousers.

What went wrong, Cindy? If you had to stumble, why did you err on the side of two years ago? Why couldn't you wear legwarmers tucked into ankle boots, like so many other slaves to lunacy? Couldn't you fug in The Now?

Posted by Heather at 09:48 AM | Permalink


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