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June 07, 2007

Lisa Fugdon

So... do we think Lisa Snowdon's enormous lingerie-blouse is what drew George Clooney to her, or what pushed him away?

I mean, I'm pretty sure I have relatives who wore shirts like that in the '70s, but they were probably polyester and patterned like a discount-bin rug rather than being sheer and lacy. Nice legs, though, but seriously -- in that thing, a stiff breeze could be her gynecologist. (Or her lover.)

Let's ask the man who was once one of those things -- and possibly both; he does seem to be a George of All Trades. So tell us, Intern George, what do you make of that outfit?

"Oh, Lisa, pet, my love ferret. Such a cry for help. I can't turn away. I must come to you, take you home, straight back to your closet... I... WAIT A SECOND.

"STOP THE PRESSES. This smells fishy. This is how we kept getting back together the first few times! She would wear clothes that cried out for camisoles and pants or being thrown on a bonfire because she KNOWS it's not in me to withhold a hug from someone so needy! I feel so betrayed. I am the lonely goatherd and she is Julie Andrews, yanking my strings and yodeling. I can't look any longer. I ... I need a bottle of champagne and cuddle on a chaise longue and a pair of leggings to cut up. I need to forget."

We hear you, George. We'll be right there.

Posted by Heather at 11:52 AM in Intern George | Permalink

 

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