now we are here, in Xanadu
AAAAAAAAAH.
*Ahem*. Sorry. Actually, no, you know what's scarier? I married someone who loves that movie. She also loves Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (no, the movie, not the...look, I'd be fine if she liked the album, what, you think I'm crazed? I like the Beatles. It's the fact that she likes the Bee Gees--in ANYTHING--that makes me cringe under the desk.)
Why am I mentioning this now? Because I was strolling through my side links, sadly realizing how many of them are dead, when I came across this mention of Beyonce on Go Fug Yourself.
Oh, man...the Fug Girls...for some reason, I'd honestly forgotten about them. Why? Because You Knit What?!? died, and I guess my brain lumped 'em both together.
But no! The fug lives on! And Beyonce's only the beginning...
In fact, this one sort of hearkens back to the heady days of YKW, and a good thing, too, we get these reminders, and don't have to knit these horrors ourselves.
And then there's Vivica A. Fox getting the metallic treatment, and Li'l Mama showing us that yes, there are worse things than the Xanadu musical, and they're called wedgiator sandals, and...brrrr, pardon me, the shudders hit again.
Like they're doing now with Blu Cantrell.
Like they did with Alison Goldfrapp.
Like they're still doing with Brian Friedman.
Lemme talk a bit about that last one, lest people get the wrong idea. I like men in corsets. Trust me on this. I know men who wear corsets--yes, in real life, okay, stop giving me that look, baralier--so it's not that. It's that particular version. It's that not-quite-Elizabethan-with-suspenders brand of WTF he's wearing.
A normal corset, cut for a male frame? Without the wonky-ass suspenders? Sure, bring it on. Even on him.
But that one? No. Noooo. *Shudders* again.
Oh, and sort of speaking of, since we're on the topic, and I know baralier loves Kylie Minogue with single-minded passion...just like mistress_weaver loves my precious and demented John Galliano...
...here you go. Scroll down to the bottom of the Sharon Stone mention. But do remember that Sharon Stone touched your glitter goddess, because that caused her mutation into a dominatrix lampshade. Muaha.
Remember, a photographer's lens is not a speculum. Nor should it be.
I...I don't...understand...and wait, she's been seen in that twice?!? Oh, dear gods. Someone stop her...it's just...
...about as bad as this.
And when did Dita break up with Marilyn Manson? Where have I BEEN?!?
Also, we may have finally broken the canonical rule of my wardrobe, plaid is a neutral, when Avril Lavigne clearly shows me the color plaid will not complement, in any wise, any shape, any means: pink. AAAAAAAGH.
And finally...I have no words for this as anyone's bridal ensemble. Pardon, I must nip off and bleach my eyes now.
*Ahem*. Sorry. Actually, no, you know what's scarier? I married someone who loves that movie. She also loves Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (no, the movie, not the...look, I'd be fine if she liked the album, what, you think I'm crazed? I like the Beatles. It's the fact that she likes the Bee Gees--in ANYTHING--that makes me cringe under the desk.)
Why am I mentioning this now? Because I was strolling through my side links, sadly realizing how many of them are dead, when I came across this mention of Beyonce on Go Fug Yourself.
Oh, man...the Fug Girls...for some reason, I'd honestly forgotten about them. Why? Because You Knit What?!? died, and I guess my brain lumped 'em both together.
But no! The fug lives on! And Beyonce's only the beginning...
In fact, this one sort of hearkens back to the heady days of YKW, and a good thing, too, we get these reminders, and don't have to knit these horrors ourselves.
And then there's Vivica A. Fox getting the metallic treatment, and Li'l Mama showing us that yes, there are worse things than the Xanadu musical, and they're called wedgiator sandals, and...brrrr, pardon me, the shudders hit again.
Like they're doing now with Blu Cantrell.
Like they did with Alison Goldfrapp.
Like they're still doing with Brian Friedman.
Lemme talk a bit about that last one, lest people get the wrong idea. I like men in corsets. Trust me on this. I know men who wear corsets--yes, in real life, okay, stop giving me that look, baralier--so it's not that. It's that particular version. It's that not-quite-Elizabethan-with-suspenders brand of WTF he's wearing.
A normal corset, cut for a male frame? Without the wonky-ass suspenders? Sure, bring it on. Even on him.
But that one? No. Noooo. *Shudders* again.
Oh, and sort of speaking of, since we're on the topic, and I know baralier loves Kylie Minogue with single-minded passion...just like mistress_weaver loves my precious and demented John Galliano...
...here you go. Scroll down to the bottom of the Sharon Stone mention. But do remember that Sharon Stone touched your glitter goddess, because that caused her mutation into a dominatrix lampshade. Muaha.
Remember, a photographer's lens is not a speculum. Nor should it be.
I...I don't...understand...and wait, she's been seen in that twice?!? Oh, dear gods. Someone stop her...it's just...
...about as bad as this.
And when did Dita break up with Marilyn Manson? Where have I BEEN?!?
Also, we may have finally broken the canonical rule of my wardrobe, plaid is a neutral, when Avril Lavigne clearly shows me the color plaid will not complement, in any wise, any shape, any means: pink. AAAAAAAGH.
And finally...I have no words for this as anyone's bridal ensemble. Pardon, I must nip off and bleach my eyes now.