Showing posts with label go fug yourself. Show all posts
Showing posts with label go fug yourself. Show all posts

Friday, June 18, 2010

Scarf Lady?


Don't get me wrong. I love scarves. My mom has an amazing collection of them in pretty colors and various textures. But, she wears them with a matching outfit and not in place of proper grooming. Besides, the weird coat, oddly positioned scarf and her grandma watch.... Ashely looks pretty here.

-TM
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Monday, April 5, 2010

It Could Be Worse

Right now, I'm sitting in a room with a girl that is coughing too loud, too often. But, I found these pictures of Mischa Barton and realized my life could be worse, much worse. I could have been someone that walked past Mischa on the streets. Did you think I was going to say I could be Mischa? I wouldn't wish that on my worst whore bag frienemy. Poor girl, she needs to fug herself and die.

-TM
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Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Oh, Sweet Child of His

What the hell are these kids on? What are they wearing? Where is their mother? Who dressed them? Why do their glasses look so stupid? I just... I can't. Ryan Philippe, stop making your adorable kids look so fug!
-TM
Photo Source

Monday, August 10, 2009

Forget About The Shirtcho Taylor, It's Never Going to Happen!

This picture brought me back to Mean Girls when Regina tells Gretchen Wieners that "fetch" is never going to happen. I feel like someone needs to tell Taylor Momsen this about shirtchos. It's not even that she's worn them so much- but I feel it coming. She's going to get the idea that shirtchos are "her" thing. Start making Little J wear them on Gossip Girl. Lord, no.

I got this picture from Go Fug Yourself, and their comments were just so right on, I knew that I could never write anything to so perfectly describe Taylor right here, so...lets call this a guest blog:
On most people, that shirt would be used as a poncho rather than as the ENTIRE outfit. I don't even care that her shoes are veering toward being a very fancy kind of orthopedic brace, because her shirtcho was freaking me out so badly during the 10 minutes in which I thought it was a dress. My unholy research has concluded, however, that I may detect in there somewhere the fringe from a pair of denim cutoffs, which unfortunately are SO cut off that they're basically denim panties, and now my nethers are so upset that they're threatening to go on strike unless I take a vacation.

Also, let me tell you, nothing feels ickier than feeling like it's your job to stare at the XOXO of a teenager to try and figure out what, exactly, you're seeing dangling there. I almost reported myself to the authorities.
-CE