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January 31, 2007

Fugsic Fugstinct: Fug

"For a woman whose blazer was recently ripped apart by a pack of rabid dogs," Sharon Stone thought, "I look pretty f'ing good."

Posted by Jessica at 11:04 AM in Sharon Stone | Permalink

October 24, 2006


SHARON: You know something, Dennis?

DEMI: It's not Dennis, it's...

SHARON: MIMI. Right, that's what I said. You know what, Mimi? Working with you and Ernesto was just such a REAL experience...

DEMI: It's not Mimi, and it's not Ernesto, it's...

SHARON: EMILY. I knew it. So, Mimi, this guy, Emily, the one right here... THIS is the guy, you know?

EMILIO: Give it up, Demi. She smells like a frat party. I think she was wearing that tie on her head not too long ago.

DEMI: I just wish she'd brushed her hair. And her teeth.

SHARON: I just couldn't be more proud to be in Bruno, you know? It's about time somebody understood him -- such a wonderful actor, such a tragic early death. People with whatever he had? They are the true heroes.

EMILIO: The movie's called Bobby.

SHARON: That's what I said! Bobby! So tragic, the way he died, and then poof, he was in the shower because it was all a dream that Pam had! Society needs this movie right now. We need to understand so that we can heal.

DEMI: That was a TV show... Were you even invited here?

SHARON: I think that Linus Lohan boy was so good in the part, too. He is dreamy, and I think he has a line on some Percocet. I'm single now -- what do you think? Wouldn't we be just deliciously randy together?

EMILIO: Linus wasn't... I mean, Lindsay... I mean, it's not Dallas. I think you did too many kegstands.

SHARON: That should be your next movie, Emily. Miller. The story of a man who created something legendary, who dared to dream of fermented hops and barley. Something we all just want to dive into and stay there, bathing and swimming in a wet coccoon of wheat, you know? It's important. I'll play the keg. You could put Mimi and her son in it. What's his name? Ashton?

DEMI: Well, yes, actually, but he's not my ... you know what? Forget it. That's close enough. Now I need a beer.

Posted by Heather at 11:41 AM in Sharon Stone | Permalink

October 02, 2006

Basic Fugstinct

Why are all these people clapping for Sharon Stone?

a) Because she is Sharon Stone, and for Basic Instinct alone she deserves a standing ovation, let alone surviving a brain aneurysm;

b) Because she is headlining a conference on selling one's soul to Satan, and she's just proclaimed, "AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE BLOOD OF BABES TRICKLING FROM OUR HUNGRY SUCKLING LIPS, and also, the fact that we have no wrinkles";

c) Because she just shouted the aforementioned statement thinking she is at a conference about selling one's soul to Satan, but actually having crashed an Office Depot Employee Loyalty retreat, and everyone is too polite to correct her;

d) Because they're looking at her from behind, and they know something.

The answer is D.

Well, at least, we assume it's D; it might also be A, B, or C, but D is the only one for which we have firm photographic proof.

You know, I'm beginning to think it was also C -- after all, Office Depot does sell a nice range of paper-shredders, which make excellent props for a demonstration of how having animalistic sex on every spare office appliance is greatly enhanced by immortality (i.e., you can get funky on the Fellowes OD1500C without needing to worry about whether it turned itself on while you were doing likewise).

Do you think she does Hallowe'en parties?

Posted by Heather at 07:37 AM in Sharon Stone | Permalink

May 26, 2006


Once again, Sharon Stone speaks eloquently on a subject close to her heart:

Her dire need for a hot oil treatment.

Posted by Jessica at 03:54 PM in Sharon Stone | Permalink

March 06, 2006

Oscar Fug Parties: Lindsay Lohan and Sharon Stone


SHARON STONE: And lemme tell you ANOTHER THING, Leslie!


SHARON STONE: That's what I SAID. Lemme tell you ANOTHER THING, LESLIE. What you NEED to DO is land a role where you show the world YOUR COOTER. But you show it in a REAL CLASSY WHITE OUTFIT. REAL classy. So there's like a....DISPARITY betweeen the COOTER and your OUTFIT. WHAT'S WRONG?

LINDSAY LOHAN:  You're...just saying the word "cooter" really loud.

SHARON STONE: SORRY. Okay, SO THEN you spend the next five years dressing REALLY GOOD.  Like, CLASSY and GLAMOUROUS.  People are like, "sure, we all saw her cooter, but MAN, can she WORK A TURTLENECK." HEY, is that the guy with the CHICKEN SATAY?

LINDSAY LOHAN: I...don't know. Um, it's been great talking to --

SHARON STONE: SO THEN people think you're an okay actress and BEAUTIFUL and then SCORCESE puts you in a MOVIE and you get a GOLDEN GLOBE and then YOU MARRY A GUY and take a lot of TIME OFF and then your HUSBAND gets his FOOT EATEN OFF by a DRAGON at the ZOO and then you have a BRAIN SOMETHING and then more stuff happens and THEN you realize NO ONE IS HIRING YOU ANYMORE and so THEN you decide to -- WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?

LINDSAY LOHAN: You're just...it's...um. I'm...nothing. I really should go say hello to Meryl --

SHARON STONE: FUCK MERYL STREEP I'M TELLING YOU THINGS. So THEN you decide to make a REALLY PORNY SEQUEL to the movie where you show your cooter LIKE I MEAN REALLY PORNY and THEN you show up at the OSCARS in a dress that shows your NIPPLES and HAS UGLY PURPLE APPLIQUES OF BUTTERFLIES and you do your make-up using the FREE SAMPLES AT RITE AID with your eyes CLOSED. And then --


SHARON STONE: THEN you do your HAIR in a WIND TUNNEL! And then everyone WONDERS what the hell happened to you. ISN'T THAT A GREAT PLAN FOR YOUR CAREER?

LINDSAY LOHAN: [polite laughter] I really need to go now. But it's been great talking to you.


Posted by Jessica at 05:18 PM in Lindsay Lohan, Oscars, Sharon Stone | Permalink

January 12, 2006

Globe Fever: Classic Fug

The day Sharon Stone stops thinking she's every man's dominatrix fantasy is the day Courtney Peldon wins a Golden Globe. Look at this woman -- she's a nutjob, and proud of it. Are those her nipples I can see through that shiny armor? Are those hot pants she's wearing under those strips of filmy fabric?

You know what? It doesn't matter. They are what she says they are, because she makes the rules, you weak little maggot, so get down on your knees and beg mommy for a cookie before she rips out a hunk of your hair and spanks you with a slice of Honeybaked Ham.

Posted by Heather at 03:46 PM in Classic Fug, Golden Globes, Sharon Stone | Permalink


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