Fugger: Miley Cyrus

Fuggah Monfuga


Remember when we wondered if the haircut and the demure Oscars gown would herald a classier Miley Cyrus?

Hope dies eternal.

Although I guess congratulations are in order for her snagging a hostessing gig at the world’s first taco joint for belly dancers. Don’t order the bottomless tortilla chips. It might be a double entendre.

[Photo: Getty]

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Oscar Fug Carpet: Miley Cyrus


With Miley, I always feel like the angel of doom — the frequent bearer of bad news, wherein I attempt to cushion yet another in a string of blows by focusing on the positive first. Like, I’m still loving the haircut. Liam Hemsworth is still making that facial expression. (You know the one. It’s… the one. At this point I’d be bereft without it.) Miley’s makeup is great; it emphasizes her eyes so stunningly. And she’s not wearing an acid-washed lady infection, which is happy for everyone who does not make Monistat for a living. But the dress itself is… not my cup of Earl Grey. I wish it were. Growing up from teen star to rebellious crackpot to mature young lady is not a fun transition to make in private, much less in public, but there is plenty of ground between Xanadu buttocks and Helen Mirren. Although I think even Helen Mirren would have left this on the “no” pile for being too stuffy.

[Photos: Getty]

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Party In The Fug.S.A.


Let’s lead with the good news: Miley got a haircut/got her extensions of doom taken out, and she looks great.

Right? It’s so healthy and sassy like that. And it makes sense: She’s about to hit up a lot of Hunger Games premieres alongside Liam “Last Song” Hemsworth, so she might as well try and get in the conversation, you know? Even if that conversation turns out to be, “Man, they could’ve just CGI’d him into this sucker from that Miley Cyrus movie and it would’ve been the same.” Although he really IS cute, so I am actually hoping he blows it out of the water as Gale. No, wait… get ready for it… I hope he is a Gale force. SNAP.

But the thing is, there’s a reason I cut this photo off at the head, and it’ s because what’s on the jump will make you do that half-inhale, half-squeal where you grab your face and then look around to see if any of your coworkers saw you going all Edvard Munch:

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People’s Choice Awards Fug or Fab: Miley Cyrus


When I first saw this, I was like, “HELLO, it’s illusion netting! Strap on your blades and don’t pull your tights over them, Fug Nation, because it’s time for some salchow jokes.” And then something unusual happened: I didn’t hate it. And then something ELSE happened: I kind of hated it again. It was a roller-coaster. It’s an emotional Space Mountain up in here. Come with me and see for yourselves.

Now that you've seen all the evidence:

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[Photos: Getty]

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Fug or Fab: Miley Cyrus


Okay, folks, strap in, ’cause Bob Miley’s in the house, and she appears to have violated the purity of a thousand violin bows in order to bring this hairpiece to you. But that only covers what’s stapled to the back of her head, and there is — as always — so much more to discuss.

You?

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And the second dress?

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[Photo: Getty]

 

 

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Fug the Fromage: The Last Song


You may recall The Last Song as being the movie that mush novelist Nicholas Sparks wrote specifically for Miley Cyrus and her burgeoning, sparkling talent (read: screaming tween fan base that likes to see films over and over in the theater). As such, there is a lot of Attitude and Illness and Metaphorical Salvation and whatnot. This movie has been kicking around on my DVR for MONTHS now. I meant to do it when Liam Hemsworth was announced as Gale in The Hunger Games, then when pictures of him in that role were released, and then just… in general. But I couldn’t bring myself to watch it again and confront this:

Or this:

Or this:

There is so much of all three of these facial expressions in this movie. Remember Joey Tribbiani’s patented Smell The Fart acting — aka, anything you’ve ever seen John Black do on Days of our Lives? There is a lot of that here. Well, that, or the part of Georgia where they shot this is a melange of curious smells. But I’m disinclined to blame Georgia. I don’t think it’s Georgia’s fault that Miley copes with [insert Sparksian plot twists here] by imagining that she stuck her face in a carton of old milk.

Okay, gird your loins. We’re diving into this thing. Hold me.

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