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

« Fug Rider | Main | E.G. Fugly »

February 19, 2007

Fuga

Okay. That's it. That is IT.

Y'all bitches are trying to make me crazy, right? Is that what this is? Because of my whole blue-in-the-face, "Oh, God, please stop because I don't have that much more to say on the subject and I just want to go lie down because it's making my head explode" vendetta against frocks over trousers, are you just goading me into strapping myself into one of those little white coats that ties my hands around my back? Is that the plan? Well, I have news for you, ladies -- and that includes you especially, Miss Mya, who I'd forgotten existed until you showed up at the NBA All-Star Game in your loud wrap dress over JEANS and ugly straw platform shoes. And that news is: It's NOT GOING TO WORK. You will not defeat me and send me running for a straitjacket. I am stronger than that, and also, I look REALLY BAD in white. So suck on THAT and leave me in peace. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to curl up all fetal in a corner of my house and rock back and forth slowly, brushing the hair of an old My Little Pony I found in a memorabilia box while muttering, "Why... why..." and drawing jolly pairs of pants running free all over the wall. Thank you for your time.

Posted by Heather at 01:34 PM | Permalink

 

eXTReMe Tracker