VMA Fug Carpet: Lil' Mama

Okay, so this is a bit belated, but after it slipped past us once we couldn't allow Lil' Mama to escape again. 

[Photo: infdaily.com]

Of course, now that I've caught her, I'm not sure what to do with her. She might respond to being confined to her playpen for the afternoon, or merely forced to sit in the corner and reflect on the dangers of walking around unsupervised with something in her mouth. What if she fell? Imagine the dental bills THEN, Lil' Mama. You'd better hope your record company has a good insurance plan for you. Also, don't run with scissors, play with matches, take candy from strangers, or read Judy Blume's Forever until you're totally sure you're going to understand what a penis is and what mysterious things it likes to do.

Although I guess, in some ways, I have to give it up to her -- obviously she feels very strongly that this is an important statement to make. But I just can't figure out what that statement IS exactly. What the hell is this even saying?

[Photo: infdaily.com]

Does she need nursing? Is it naptime? Does she want us to know she's been naughty and requires a firm spanking? Is fellating a pacifier her way of telling us, secretly, that her upcoming album totally sucks? In six months are we all expected to wear bedazzled baby toys as earrings?

I give up; I don't get it. Obviously it's just all too subtle for me.

VMA Fug Carpet: Kid Rock

We're still at Fashion Week, but nothing can keep us from eye-balling the VMAs.

And topping the short list of People You Want to Spy Out of the Corner of Your Eye Wearing a Belly Shirt at the VMAs is TOTALLY Kid Rock:

Right?

VMA Fug Carpet: Shia Le Boeuf

Honey, we get it: You're grown up now. No need to style yourself like an extra in the Key West Reperatory Theater and Steak Den production of Guys and Dolls. You're a man; you're in Indiana Jones. We know. Now grab a Mach-3 at your local drugstore and raze the reedy pubic 'stache before the old lady at Table Four tries to pay you a shiny quarter to mow her lawn.

VMA Fug Carpet: Paris Hilton

Dear Diary,

What? Just because my sister Nicky had a big fashion show in New York City, and my parents were there, and her boyfriend was there, and it was really important to her, you expect me to just DROP EVERYTHING and GO? This is the VMAs, beeyotch, and I don't know if you HEARD me when I was writing sensitive things about homeless people, Diary, but I was in PRISON FOR A LONG LONG TIME. What's a cougar to do?

What, I can't be a cougar now? Who cares if I'm not old enough? Since when am I not allowed to be fashionable? Demi Moore and Kim Cattrall are, like, all up in the young ass right now and everyone LOVES IT. So I figure, if I dress like a desperate matron, I'm IN. I can look 40! For real! See? Dina Lohan WISHES she looked this old and Up For Anything! That Shia Le Boeuf seems like he's in the market for an older woman to teach him the ways of a lady. He doesn't have to know I'm not that much further along than he is.

God, you're such a spoil-sport, Diary. Did Nicky put you up to this? She's so boring. I'm totally throwing you away.

BOOO,
Paris

Don't Cha Wish Your Girlfriend Was Fug Like Me?

While I'm stunned that the Pussycat Dolls managed to win an MTV VM-Eh award, I'm always happy to see this anonymous gaggle of "singers" prowling the red carpet.

Lead Cat -- we know she's the lead because she is allowed to stand slightly ahead of the rest -- actually looks okay, as does the blue sparkly one next to her, who resembles an Apollo 13 wife on her way to a launch party but is at least managing to make retro-chic work for her a bit. Well, except for the bun, which I suspect cost $13, and may actually be a pastry with cheap hair extensions wrapped around it.

Duff Cat on the left up there continues her remarkable embrace of all things Hilary Before Her Good Makeover -- down to the little extra-cinched hem on her dress, which echoes something Hil has already worn. But she should fire whomever chose a dress for her that has built-in wrinkles; ditto Bland Cat, second from the right, who looks like she shook it out from a crumpled heap in her neglected dry-cleaning pile and figured that no one would notice because one of the other cats was bound to look worse. (She was half correct.) And Posh Cat on the far right, whom I once thought bore a passing facial resemblance to everybody's favorite footballer's wife, was obviously erroneously inspired by Lindsay Lohan's Shakespearian bloomers. She barely coughed up a hairball's worth of original fug.

Aged Cat, meanwhile, looks like the cocktail waitress at the Playboy Mansion's Senior Bunny Texas Hold 'Em tournament. I mean, she's sporting a VISOR with her dress. A VISOR, PEOPLE. You know who else wears visors? Kevin Federline. And come to think of it, there's a slight facial resemblance to him in this photo. So until she earns her way back out of this reeking bog, she's known to me only as Federfeline. And being a groin-licking mewling version of Mr. Spears is a sad, sad fate indeed.

VMA Post Party Fug: Paige Davis

Behold Paige Davis -- or, to use her legal name, Mindy Paige Davis Page:

Leaving aside the perplexing fact that the former host of Trading Spaces is going to VMA parties -- please tell me that they're bringing her back for a special celebrity season, and, like, Ludacris and Axl Rose are going to trade spaces -- can we talk about this dress? Who puts this on and thinks, "shiny...shapeless...sold!" I don't think she's pregnant (the side view seemed very bump-free), and I subscribe to the theory that, unless there's a bun toasting in your oven, you probably should shun the poncho-dress, or, as I like to call it, the droncho. Let's trade the droncho for something more flattering,  shall we?

VMA Post Party Fug: Lil' Kim

Welcome back to the world, Lil'. We're thrilled to see that doing hard time in the pokey hasn't blunted your erogenous zones' need for unimpeded ventilation. I mean, without the constant threat of being exposed to your fabric-averse ladyparts, where would the fun be?

VMA Fug Carpet: Jennifer Lopez

Dear Rat-Faced Pipsqueak Jesse McCartney,

You want to know if I'm pregnant, you Howard Stern-blabbing poster boy for runny-nosed puberty accidents? You want to tell everyone I quit Dallas because my Mark ate a sandwich one night and had the strength for two minutes of egg-scrambling ecstasy before he passed out in his coffin again? FINE. Take a look up my uterine pipe YOURSELF, squirrel! Mira! Here it is! Do I LOOK like I caught a raging case of incurable Violet Affleck in my woman-sauna? Could a PREGNANT LADY pull off dressing like the star of Gloria Swanson On Ice? If I was slinging around a bag of womb-fruit, tonto, do you think a hundred Hollywood writers would be sitting around my photo RIGHT NOW falling all over themselves to create a movie for me about a future in which society is populated with a robot race of synchronized swimmers who are not only the most respected citizens of the world, but who double as the intergalactic military, and whose captain -- ME, acne brute! -- saves the world with a specialized blend of sass, leg splits, and choreographed aquatic gymnastics... while also learning to have her cold metal heart feel things deeply in a deep, deep way? NO! I THINK NOT. (Matt Damon, you want the lead? Llamame! Don't tell your oaf friend!)

So, Jesse McCartney, stick your THUMB back in your BLABBY MOUTH, pathetic peach-fuzzed wussy child, and RUN AWAY, before I flap my puffed sleeves down to the Dallas set and cut off all your girlfriend's Lucy Ewing hair. Then she will have to copy my turbanesque head scarf and WHO WILL HAVE THE LAST LAUGH THEN, EH, TOOTHPICK CHILD? HAHAHAHAH!

Also, catch me on LL Cool J's new single, in stores now!

Kisses, runt,

J.Ant

VMA Fug Carpet: Vanessa Minnillo

I never would have figured that Big Brother's Chicken George and MTV's Vanessa Minnillo would have anything in common. And yet, here it is, proof of common ground between beauty queen and buffoon: Both enjoy wearing scrunched-up aluminum foil. How sweet.

VMAs: Paris Hilton

Paris Hilton, in her continuing attempt to become a singer, shows up at the VMAs in an homage to Bjork's infamous Trumpet of the Swan:

I especially enjoy the expression on the man sitting behind her. It's as though he started applauding for her, and then, actually catching a glimpse of her, has stopped mid-clap to think, "Sweet cracker sandwiches, what is she wearing?"

Good question, Perplexed Clapping Man. What IS she wearing? Let's take a closer look:

1. Bangs sculpted into a careful homage to Conan O'Brien
2. Wee little bows tried around her wrists like the world's twee-est handcuffs
3. De riguer giant belt
4. A skirt composed of equal parts duck feathers and the rejected scraps from Madonna's "Like A Virgin" costume. When Madonna and Bjork discover this fact, they will put on matching purple leotards and cartwheel over to Paris's house, where they will beat her severely with a sock full of quarters.
5. Black ankle boots, of course. Because what else do you wear with your fluffy white party dress? She's so ROCK AND ROLL! But what else would you expect from a songstress whose album includes the hardcore lines, "Girls and boys are looking at me/I can't blame them cause I'm sexy," or "I'm hot to death and I'm so, so, so sex-ee." I mean, the girls has CHOPS, am I right?

Is it wrong that I sort of just indulged in a fantasy wherein she walked right off the end of the stage, cracked her head, gave herself amnesia, forgot that she was supposed to be busy destroying the very fabric of our nation, and disappeared forever? That's what we're all hoping for, really, right?

VMA Fug Carpet: Leonor Varela

Apparently sick of people complimenting her figure (how tiring!), Leonor Varela created a diversion: She donned a confusing, malformed gold-satin atrocity with an unexplained stomach patch, made sure it pulled and strained awkwardly around every last curve, and then wrinkled the skirt in the limo before walking the carpet.

Congratulations, Leonor. It was indeed the perfect way to create confusion. I'm officially befuddled.

VMA Fug Carpet: Amy Lee and Jared Leto

Okay, you regular GFY readers have learned a few things about me in the past 2 years.  For example, I enjoy the work of Shannen Doherty, and I have a dirty, inexplicable, painful love for Lindsay Lohan that not even her current love of formal shorts can kill. I love George Clooney. I hate leggings.  And so forth. But I have kept secrets from you, my readers, and one of my many secrets is that I love match-making.  Because beneath my bitchy, evil exterior beats the heart of a secret romantic. And I think I have found a match on the VMA's red carpet. Reaquaint yourself with Amy Lee, and then meet her new one true love:

Amy Lee:

And her soulmate:

He's PERFECT for her, right? You know how they say that couples who've been together for years and years start to look like each other? They've already got a headstart! AND they presented an award together, which is how all great romances start. Oh, it's going to be so great. They can share eyeliner and talk about Robert Smith together! She can nurse him through the gout! Plus, if Lindsay Lohan tries to get back together with him, Amy will cut her, and while I don't want to see Lindsay injured, I would like to keep her away from El Leto. Everyone wins!

VMA Fug Carpet: Monica

I love cheese. And who among us who loves cheese hasn't thought, at least once, "If only I could work a cheese grater into my clothing, in case I need to shred some Double Gloucester at a moment's notice, then I would be a fulfilled human being."  I mean, you never do know when you'll be in a cheese-greating emergency.

Clever Monica for finding a way to turn my dream into a reality.

VMAs: Eva Longoria

Okay, I realize this was part of the whole "anything can happen" theme of the evening, but...

It was only seven years ago that Eva was Miss Corpus Christi. Ergo, her strutting onstage in a complex, confusing bathing suit looking every inch like a pageant princess -- not to mention the fact that she'll do anything for attention, and seriously, WHAT is going on with her hair? -- is not, in fact, terribly surprising. More shocking would have been her showing up in pants and a sweater, without makeup, while loudly declaring herself celibate. Now there's a jaw-dropper.

Semi-Unfugging: Fergie

Trust me, this hurts me as much as it hurts you.

[Photo by Daily Celeb.]

Let's be clear: I don't like the dress -- mostly, the colors and the bodice. Oh, and the sash. Basically, the whole thing isn't really my cup of tea. She looks like a limon. Juice her and some Sprite would come out.

But... this is Fergie we're talking about here. Fergie. The Urinator. The Whizzing Bandit. The Wet Spot. The Leaky Bladder.  The Trouser Golden Shower. The Ninety Year-Old Urethra. We know this woman's history. We are lucky she didn't show up in a urine-stained pair of formal shorts with a waistline somewhere near her armpits. We are fortunate she left her knee socks and legwarmers at home. The Sweet Baby Jesus is to be exalted for the fact that she doesn't look like Pippi Longstocking on a paper route. In fact, we should consider ourselves downright blessed that she appears to have showered and styled her hair.

So in sum: Dress? No thank you. Lack of suspicious stains and the appearance of an effort having been made? We'll take it, and we'll give credit where credit is due.

I'm sure it's only a momentary lapse of all-out fug.

VMA Fug Carpet: Jessica Simpson

I JUST CAN'T TAKE HER ANYMORE:

I mean seriously. ENOUGH ALREADY. ENOUGH! ENOUGH! I am officially, 100 percent, totally and completely, utterly and deeply over Jessica "Is This Tuna or Chicken?" "Buffalos Don't Have Wings!" "Aw, look at my little sister, isn't she -- NO, LOOK AT ME AGAIN!" "I Slept With Johnny Knoxville OH NO I DIDN'T HOW DARE YOU INSINUATE THAT?" "I filed for divorce. NO, I DIDN'T. Or DID I? No. I didn't." "My dad is totally normal, I SWEAR!" "Listen, my marriage is totally awesome, REALLY." "Hey, check out my boobs!" "My ass, my ass, now let's talk about my ass!" "You too can have my Daisy Dukes body...just buy my exercise DVD! And my perfume! And my body glitter! And my line of jeans! And my SOUL!" "Hey, Star Magazine just did an entire two-page article on MY ASS, complete with EXPERT OPINIONS because everyone is JUST THAT INTERESTED IN THE RELATIVE BOOTYLICIOUSNESS OR LACK THEREOF OF MY BEHIND." Simpson.

Therefore, I decline to comment on her VMAs outfit, even though I could say that she looks like the top of half of a pirate bride paired with the bottom half of, oh, I don't know, SOME IDIOT WHO JUMPED ON THE FORMAL SHORTS BANDWAGON, but I won't, because Jessica Simpson won't go away until we all start ignoring her. Therefore, as far as I am concerned, she was never at the VMAs, she has never been to the VMAs, she has never HEARD of the VMAs, she has never had a hand in either V, or M, and she certainly doesn't deserve an A.

So let's all just go about our business and pretend this never happened.

VMA Fug Carpet: Coco

And speaking of people who needn't have bothered with the flimsy formality of fabric... it seems the repellantly self-obsessed host Sean John P. Diddy Stay-Puft Daddy Combs wasn't the only thing at the VMAs full of hot air:

[Photo by Daily Celeb.]

Somebody inflated the balloons before taking off the protective netting.

Good rule of thumb: Don't dress like you charge by the hour just because your date (Ice-T) notoriously used to be a pimp. When the entire community of legal hookers in Las Vegas probably looked at you and said, "Girl, you are cheaper than top ramen," you have erred.

But if you won't be deterred, at least make sure your nipples-the-size-of-beer-cans aren't pointing in different directions. That's unsettling -- plus, nobody wants the nickname Nips Akimbo.

VMA Fug Carpet: Brooke Hogan

Brooke Hogan was in the middle of the time-honored wedding shower game Dress The Bride In A Toilet Paper Gown when she realized she was running late for the VMAs!

So she threw on her hooker shoes and ran right out to the show!

VMA Fug Carpet: Kirsten Dunst

Kirsten Dunst, everyone's favorite M.D. of The Sag, danced onto the red... er, black carpet... wearing a very familiar speckled, sparkling sack-wrap:

You might remember that little number from such debacles as, "Mischa Barton Embraces Leggings; Gets Swallowed By Oversized Glittering Drapery."

One thing for which I will give La Dunst credit: She looks way better in this thing than Mischa did. For one thing, it actually appears to fit her, and doesn't look like it weighs 50 pounds as it presses aggressively down on her twiggy frame. However, it's still a droopy disaster of a gown that's one part smoking jacket, two parts bathrobe, three parts Great Aunt Betina at her 88th birthday extravapalooza, and eighty parts exactly what the doctor ordered -- if indeed that doctor is the famed Dr. Sunkentits, and the treatment in question is an antidote to overly perky breasts.

VMA Fug Carpet: Paulina Rubio

Some people think sexiness is about leaving things to the imagination. Paulina Rubio, however, not only seems to disagree with this theory, but appears to believe that imagination doesn't actually exist and cannot be trusted to fill in our mental blanks:

[Photo by Daily Celeb.]

At this point, why even get dressed at all?

Perhaps I'm being unfair -- maybe the hurricane winds blew away her dress liner.

VMAs Latin America: Back to the Fug

Not to put too fine a point on it: what the hell is going on here?

Did she hitch a ride with Marty McFly on some less-publicized jaunt in the De Lorean, this one from 1985 to 2004? [I'm sure she was disappointed by our lack of flying cars.] In fact, I suspect that's McFly's demin jacket tied around her waist.

Coming directly from the past to the VMAs: Latin America Remix is the only thing that would explain:

a) The legwarmers. Seriously, are you an extra in Center Stage II: Left of Center? Then can the leg warmers, because they didn't look good on you in 1985, they didn't look good on you during their mercifully brief revival sixteen months ago and they don't look good on you now.

b) The polka dot Minnie Mouse skirt.

c) the dirty Chuck Taylors. Which, you know, I like Converse too, but there's a time and a place and the time and the place is usually Saturday, 11:15am, Starbucks and not AN AWARDS SHOW.

d) Did I mention the jeans jacket, in a wash and a cut not seen since back before we knew George Michael was gay?

The only thing missing is a puffy red vest.

Poor Natalia Lafourcade. Apparently, fug is her density. I mean, destiny.

VMAs: Fugly From the Block

Dear America,

I am Jennifer Lopez and I am so very happy! Look at me kicking up my heels in pure glee! Glee! I'm gleeful! And why? Have you seen my husband? [I haven't seen him tonight myself because we're sort of pretending we're not married, but come on, girl, you saw those paparazzi photos I released to the Star.] My whole life I've been dreaming about this man, you know? Our relationship is so, so real.

Oh, there he is! Lookit him! Look!

I have dreamed -- yes, mi amores, dreamed -- about someone like Marc. He's so... weensy and bird-like and man-tanned and Living Dead-y. What girl doesn't long for a man who looks embalmed? He's my own adorable little leathery Manoerexic, Tanorexic Marc! I tried to put him in this handbag I have here, but his left arm wouldn't fit, no matter how I tried. My handgun takes up a lot of space in there.

Okay, enough about Marc. Let's talk more about me, America. Are you not totally wild about my hat? I am. I wear it a lot. You've probably seen it before. It's part of my Zorro costume, the one that my stylist won't let me wear out of the house. She'll see the light soon enough -- and by "soon enough," I mean, "When the brakes on her Land Rover stop working." Hahahaha! I'm sorry, I don't mean that. Forget I said it. Forget it.

And check out the shoes! I carved them myself out of the ivory tusk of an elephant I had killed for me, and then I popped them into the toaster oven until they turned that nice nutty brown color. They're part of my new J Lo shoe line! And how do you like the ruffles on my dress-thing? They clash, don't you think? They're so kicky! Like my new movie, Shall We Dance, which will be in theatres in November. Go see it. Seriously, America. See it.

Speaking of the dress thingie, isn't taupe a deliciously festive color? Someone told me I looked like a walking See's Candies Butterscotch sucker, but I fired him. Do candies wear sparkling sequined belt? Do candies wrap themselves in spandex-satin that totally squashes their boobs down? No, sir, they do not!

How about my ugly jewels? None of them match! In fact, my entire outfit is all about not-matching. Because, and I don't know if you've heard this, but I'm totally real. Seriously, don't be fooled by the rocks that I got... because they're ugly! Hahahahahah! Did I mention how fucking happy I am? I'm so very really really happy. I am not upset about that whole no-wedding thing with WhatsHisName -- Bob Fleefleck? Bill Kerfluck? Brett Whoffleck? -- at all. Not at all. I am totally over it. Totally, totally over it. So over it. Write that down, America! J Lo: HAPPIER THAN FUCKING EVER.

Thanks!

Love,

Jennifer

VMAs: Are You Gonna Fug My Way?

This is a nice chest. Even though I hate Lenny Kravitz, I can appreciate a six-pack when I see one.

But... he is wearing wings. He is wearing a gigantic man-sized tassel, some jeans, and wings. And sunglasses that make him look faintly alien, in combination with the wings that he is wearing. Because he is, indeed, wearing wings. Scaly-looking fug wings.

Unless you are an angel, a bird, or a maxi-pad, you should not have wings.

VMA Fug Carpet: Beyonce

It takes a very specific person to pull off hot pants. Beyonce is not that person.

Skin is not nature's trousers, lady. Cover up with something more than Jergens. [Or is it her stylist-mother Tina Knowles who has lost her mind?] I love Beyonce for not being a twig, and for having booty and thighs, but this outfit makes no sense. There are ways to sex up one's curves, and there are ways to make oneself look elephantine. Gold lame hot pants, on Beyonce, produce the latter effect. And the one-two punch of the big hair and huge collar is preparing to swallow her whole.

I don't quite understand the blonding up of Hollywood. Jennifer Lopez has gotten steadily more honey-hued, Carmen Electra showed up last night with blond locks, and Beyonce has gotten lighter and lighter, culminating in this totally overdone shade that just makes her look like some sort of tragic wig accident.

So listen up, Beyonc -- can I call you Beyonc? -- because I want to help you, and you obviously aren't getting any advice at home: Tresses dyed to match your outfit only worked when Gwen Stefani did it, and, let's face it, she didn't completely pull it off either. So you need to throw out the Feria and go get your hair tinted appropriately, and then start wearing clothes that don't look like a Victoria's Secret boudoir ensemble.

VMA Fug Carpet: Jimmy Fallon

One can always count on Jimmy Fallon to bring a sense of ignorance to various proceedings. In this case, he appears not to know that he is at a fairly formal occasion:

Although he at least confortingly confirms that he knows where he is geographically -- unless that shirt was an accident -- it seems Jimmy Fallon, despite having been to numerous awards shows in the past, is laboring under the belief that he's never been to an awards show in the past. He looks bemused by all the glad rags. He's all, "Phew -- I was worried someone else would be wearing the same Gap khakis and t-shirt as I am. Thank GOD everyone else shopped somewhere much nicer than the gift shop at the Miami airport."

Jimmy, have you ever met a suit? Unless you are a rapper and/or have a posse of intimidating physical and membership size, then you're not supposed to put on any old crazy shit and call it an outfit -- hell, ninety percent of the aforementioned rappers/posse-bringers outdressed you, and that includes the many who wore oversized shirts.

VMAs: Beating Fugorexia

If you've just come out of rehab for an "eating disorder" and you are making your first public appearance, perhaps it's not wise to a) look as if you are being held up by the comparative heft of your twin, and b) wear a shapeless sack made out of the tablecloth you stole from rehab so that you'd Always Remember. [Nice of Ashley to generously show solidarity by wearing a shapeless shift of her own.]

The rumor is that Mary-Kate came out of rehab ten pounds heavier. This dress choice makes it look like she lost weight. I really hope she just has no sense of style, and not that she's dressing this way because she's hiding her newfound obesity. Poor kid. CINCH IT, Olsen twin -- you have nothing to hide. Also, keep eating meatball subs. You won't be sorry.

VMAs: Fugs So Good

This picture raises so many questions for me:

A) Did Amy Lee not get the memo about how Uggs are over? And about how they make girls with calves look like they've got mega-cankles and stumpy legs? And about how, at any rate, they're not appropriate for any event fancier than "Hon, I'm running down to the Piggly Wiggly for some cigs. Do you need anything?"

B) Didn't Elaine Irwin tell John [Cougar] Mellencamp that he probably ought to change out of his Dad Jeans and into a suit? Because John [Cougar] Mellencamp looks like he was just lolling in the hammock in his back yard in Indiana reading a book about poker and drinking a beer while his kids ran through the sprinklers. Which is a nice and completely defensible look -- when you're in the hammock in your back yard in Indiana reading a book and drinking a beer.

C) In his defense, John [Cougar] Mellencamp looks totally confused about what he's doing, who he's standing next to, and why he even agreed to get out of his hammock in the first place. Damn it, he forgot to turn the sprinklers off.

D) John? Everyone misses the "Cougar."

VMAs: Put Your Fug Down, Flip It, and Reverse It

Why is Missy Elliot dressed like some sort of colorful Indiana Jones?

She must be seeking the Ark of the Fugenant. Shouldn't be too much of a search -- all she needs is a mirror.

VMAs: One step forward, two fugs back

Despite the fact that her apparent Marilyn Monroe fetish is becoming a little bit unsettling, Christina Aguilera for once managed to pull herself together for the Fug Carpet:

Not too shabby, eh? The shoes are pretty cute. The dress is lacking in atrocity. The hair... well, this is a girl who went with a Dee Snyder look for a while, so I'll happily take the overly precious ringlets.

But then, Christina saw fit to change her ensemble for the actual telecast, and in doing so put the Fug back in Fuguilera. Here she is on-stage:

I know they went for an era-specific costume, but... From the neck up, she's at a funeral. Her torso and upper abdomen are onstage in Las Vegas. And either Montecore mauled her there and ate off her skirt, or her thighs are at Crunch Gym in LA.

Are those fluorescent bike shorts, or are they hot-orange knee-length hose? What is going on here? Even Nelly is staring at her like, "Bitch, your lipstick doesn't match your panty-shorts."

She ditched those for the after-party, for better or for worse:

What is up with people thinking that putting forty too many necklaces around one's neck is a fantastic, chic, MTV look? And what is she doing wearing crimson shoes with a green-and-black piece of lingerie?

Those necklaces are poised to throttle her. And so, despite her best efforts, Christina can't claw herself out of the Fug Pit for good. She's like Ziggy: Will she ever win?

VMAs: The Little FugMaid

I don't even know who this person is:

The caption tells me that her name is Syleena Johnson and Google tells me that she's a singer of some sort. Her website tells me that she's got a pretty decent voice. No one, however, will tell me why, in the name of God, she's wearing something that most closely resembles something Tonya Harding might choose to wear if she decided to launch a triumphant return to figure skating as the star of Mermaid Whores on Ice.

I'd also like to point out that this is the second mermaid whore of the evening. Is this a trend? In Brentwood, is Tori Spelling frantically trying to reach 90210's second season costume mistress to see if she's still got Tori's mermaid costume from That Episode Where Kelly Dressed Like a Slutty Witch and Got Punished For It When That Guy Tried to Rape Her, Thank God Steve Thwarted Him? Because I don't know if I can handle that.

VMA Fug Carpet: The Duffs

Hilary's recipe for dressing up as if she belongs at a rock event:

1. When in doubt, wear black, especially smeared under your eyes.

2. The more suspiciously superfluous straps, the better, especially if at least one is falling down off your shoulder.

3. Gold chains make anything look hard-core -- when you think you've got on exactly the right number, add two more.

4. Do not be afraid to mix metals, such as heavy gold accessories with heavy silver trim on your shoes. It gives the appearance of not having tried.

5. If you have stumpy gams, share them! Mere hours before the ceremony, take scissors -- the world's greatest fashion tool! -- and hack off the bottom of your designer trousers to create a kicky shorts-based ensemble.

6. Slouch! And then, slouch more.

7. Bring a tranny with you so that everyone will be buzzing about whether it's a pre-op or a post-op, instead of talking about your lame outfit.

VMA Fug Carpet: Hulk Hogan's spawn

I know Hulk Hogan is from a world where women are encouraged -- nay, ordered -- to prance around in at least half of a bikini, if not a whole one. But I feel like it becomes much creepier when he's got his daughter dressing in a similar manner.

Adding to the skeeve: The fact that he appears to be gesturing toward his daughter's barely-concealed crotch, as if to say, "See this? Would you like some?" Although it's also possible he was talking to Lil' Kim at the time, and simply pointing out how a girl can wear a revealing dress and still not leave her clitoris hanging out.

Still, this whole mer-goddess look does nothing for me, and honestly, I don't think it does much for La Hogan either. I feel like Britney would have worn this to the VMAs... two years ago.

But at least she's not going to get any bug bites with all that mosquito netting swirling around her legs.

VMA Fug Carpet: Lil' Kim

I was going to compliment Lil' Kim on her relative modesty this year, considering that only 98 percent of the total acreage of her breasts was visible to the public. Not a nipple in sight. But then I caught a full-body shot of her arrival:

In that dress she looks like some kind of deranged peacock-turned-synchronized swimmer. Also:

Dear Lil' Kim:

Congratulations. You have a vagina. But you know what? So do I. Yet when I'm in public it somehow, magically, manages to stay inside my pants. If you would like some tips on vaginal concealment, I suggest that you contact some professionals -- like, say, Diane Keaton's stylist. I think that person could teach you a lot.

Yikes,
Heather

VMA Fug Carpet: Lizzie Grubman

Lizzie Grubman is very embarrassed that she forgot to put on her dress over her slip:

Lizzie Grubman is also embarrassed that she backed an SUV into a crowd of people, has overbleached hair, never got braces, has tanned and starved herself into looking like old pal Tara "Implants of Granite" Reid, and has become so desperate for fame, redemption, and recognition that she hired a bunch of pretty girls so that MTV would agree to make a show about the "exciting" world of cock-sucking -- er, "public relations."

But that's embarassment on a more long-term, cosmic level. Right then, in that photographed moment, she was just kind of humiliated about the dress thing.