… even though it is. It’s that it’s wrinkly. Good grief. That fabric wrinkles if you look at it wrong, and it looks like it just took her hair and face down with it.
What the hell do you mean, “It’s not Friday?” I’ve had enough week for one week, thanks. And judging by Fug Girl Heather’s take, the mustache of Robert Downey, Jr., has pushed her over into that territory too.
Robert Downey, Jr. Mustache. The man who single-handedly could have saved Ally McBeal (girl and show both) had he been able to stay out of the blow instead of leaving her to fishtail off into “long-lost daughter” and “Jon Bon Jovi” territory. Mustache. As Heather so impassionedly points out, you’re not Tom Selleck, dude.
This is why I’m an editor rather than a writer, because even when I suspect that what I’m thinking would resonate with a lot of other people, I never think to write it up that way, much less be funny about it. Hence Fug Girl Jessica: “Please, no one watched that.”
I love me some Scully and Mulder too, but … let’s just say I’m reserving the right to “meh” over this movie.
A disco bathrobe? More like a gold lamé Hefty bag. And shoes that resemble the business end of a pair of shackles.
…which, maybe that was the point? She’s doing a tribute to the previous three Indy movies–round, ugly gold idol statue from Raiders, ankle fetters from Temple of Doom … yeah, I got nothin’.
My dear Fug Girl, what are you thinking about? Kelly Preston’s dress here is not a scroll-down fug. It is not an “ostensibly lovely” dress. It is made of gray jersey knit. I hesitate to point this out, as I freely admit it could be my eyes at fault and not yours, but it sure looks like she picked up a jersey-knit sheet, wrapped it around her bare, and down the road she go. It explains the peculiar drape and the willingness of the fabric to cling to her tights and make those fugly wrinkles-under-the-drapiness. Look again, sweet Jessica, for the full effect of the fug.
You, on the other hand, look cute with your sleek, snappy dress and little apply cheeks, however unkind it may be to remind me how much I miss Veronica Mars in the middle of a strike.
A cutout of a giant baseball sewn out of your mom’s living-room curtains circa 1985, looks like. Jennifer Connelly, where did you go wrong?