It’s your own fault, Fug Nation. You’ve proven so adept at every challenge we’ve thrown at you, we’re going to get a little advanced on you this week. Yes, that’s right. You heard me. It’s time… for Juliette Lewis.
Remember, all submissions must be made in the comments section — as in, NOT via e-mail — by 10 p.m. California time on Sunday.
THE PICTURE:
[Photo: FlynetOnline.com]
THE FUGEE: Actress and wannabe rocker Juliette Lewis.
THE EXTRA DETAILS: Juliette, formerly the lead singer of Juliette and the Licks, now fronts a band called The New Romantiques. You may also remember her from the time she wore corn rows in her hair at the Oscars, back when she was dating Brad Pitt. We have an extensive archive of her past transgressions, some of which mention her magical song lyrics. In this photo, she’s performing in Munich.
THE CHALLENGE: Fug this outfit via an acrostic poem. “What is an acrostic poem?” you may wonder. I’m so glad you asked. An acrostic poem is one in which the first letter or syllable of each line itself conveys a message or spells a relevant word. For instance, the obvious one here would be to write an eight-line poem in which the first letters of each line combine to spell JULIETTE (well, okay, the obvious one might be a ten-line poem where the first letter of each line combine to spell CRAZYPANTS, but whatever). Here are some examples of acrostic poems, which may be helpful to you in figuring out how you want to do this. You don’t have to make yours as long as some of those are; they’re just good showcases for the format. Consider it like sending a coded message through verse. So really, we’re acting just like an episode of Alias. JUST LIKE IT. (Actually, if you read that Wikipedia page, you’ll learn that last month, Arnold Schwarzenegger reportedly used an acrostic to convey a rude message to the California State Assembly that rhymes with “Duck Fu.” That is… hilarious.)
THE REMINDER:
Can you guys
Remember to post
All entries by 10 p.m. Sunday in the
Zesty comments section?
You guys know the drill.
Please keep it clean
And in the vein of the site itself.
Now, go forth this Friday the 13th and
Totally kick the ass of this
Sad acrostic message.
Comments (229):
Before you leave the house
Examine yourself in mirror
Everyone knows you are
Two cups of crazy
Long long red veils remind us of Winona
Ever think maybe it’s too much?
Juliette oh Juliette
Unless your vocals transcend this
I don’t think you
Can get away with it.
Ever.
Just pretend you can’t see me
Underneath this fabric flowing
Lies fashion hidden deep
Inner beauty shining through
Embrace me, the me that is crazypants
The kneepads will get you through
To the other side, the other side
Every side is me, crazypants
Sort of makes you wonder
How they come up with this stuff
Every time she steps on stage
I throw up in my mouth a little
Someone should tell her
Nylon veils are so early ’90′s
Only one
Gal can pull off that level of crazy
And let me tell you
Gaga she
Aint
For the love of G-o-d
Undo this mess
Go away Juliette
Leave the knee pads at home
Your truly, Lady Gaga
Clearly, there was a sale at Wal-Mart
Underneath this sheer is a
Rollerblading
Trilobite
Angelina is laughing
Instead of clapping at this
New Romantique homage to the nineties
Lady Gaga sits in her trailer crying
Effusive tears and wondering
Why her favorite veil
Is missing and why
She feels like Juliette Lewis just walked over her grave.
Hey people, listen to me…
Open your eyes and see!
Hell is what I am singing,
Old stuff is what I am wearing!
Nobody can recognize me behind this veil…
Enamour with the sound of my voice,
You can’t resist my charisma,
Not a doubt about it,
Old stuff is the key!
Hell, no…
Um, well…
Maybe
Atrocious? Yes.
Nasty? Possibly.
Kardashians’
Asstonishing
Butt/Boobs
Brandishing
Are
Lax
As
Her
Royal
Eccentric
Diva JULIETTE
Shows…
That
Real
Insanity
Never
Goes unfugged!
Why
Hide your face, Juliette?
Are you embarrassed by your
Clothes? I think the
Knee pads are too much.
Jump
On stage as much as you want,
But don’t trip on your veil.
Crooning purple beetle
Adorned as for a wedding
Presuming her groom is the devil.
Edgy choice, the kneepads
Fearing urgent genuflection?
Even her right sleeve chose to flee
At this display of disharmony
Really hope she changes for the reception.
So, you want me to
Entertain everyone,
Rocking out wearing WHAT?
Ingenious, darling. Honestly!
Only I could pull of something this
Ug… I mean
Smashing on the stage.
Love the kneepads,
You never know when they’ll be needed, right
? I thought so.
Inner Monologue
Can’t you fascist fashionistas
Read
Against the abominable
Zeitgeist?
You’re imprisoned by your mores, but your
Inanimate banality can’t quell my motocross bridal joy!
Nor will your presence be requested for the
Reception. You will not be allowed to
Enervate my fabulous Grace Jones Barbie
Dreamscape wedding.
Cry no more, fair juliette
After prom no more
Remain to taunt you,
Regale us with your triumph song, burning
In our ears as this outfit burns our
Eyes
Spencer Gifts, here I come!
To find a witch costume
In the junior’s section to
Convey my dignity, poise, and
Kickass band. Haven’t
You seen me in “From Dusk til Dawn”? I’m so
Hardcore. Forget Brad, Cornrows, and “The
Other Sister” That’s
Not me anymore. I’m a ghost now, can’t
Everybody see that?
Yes, that’s what the sheet is for.
A message of condescension by:
Just wait, you
Uptight plebeians, sadly
Lacking in vision.
I’m inspiring fabric-loving
Earthlings to doff
Tired, staid, “practical”
Trousers. Forward-thinkers,
Embrace my genius!
In this gauzy veil
Atop this so-solid stage
My body sweeps like poetry
A cry arising from the crowd
Rent by my music, changed forever
They hear the poetry of me
Stripes upon me, sound between us
Your eyes are welcome on my body
Dull kneepads, glossy leather
A contradiction
Matriarchal dichotomy: lace and feather
My statement is clear
I am everymuse for you
The punk will move us together
Quaking in my boots at the sight of yours
Understanding not the knee pads
Or the scary tights and not
The least the veil
Heaven only knows
These trials and tribulations
Hell can only wonder how
Escape was made
Ravens feathers in red
And black
Visage completely masked, yet
Endgames
Naked eyes
Nik Kershaw
English, Modern
Verily, had the
Eighties covered
Romantics new and best forgotten
May the same fate lie for you
Or to be
Remembered for this folly
Eeewwwww!
Go on now
As fast as you can to
Get this years
Amazing “it”
Toy inspired by the
Raving lunatic
And lyrical genius
Named juliette lewis
Sold at your nearest
Freak-o-rama
Only for a limited time
Refunds and exchanges denied
My own Gaga Transformer, complete with
Extra padded ball and socket knee joints for
Robotronic action.
Radioactive dervish
Almost describes the
Daring with which you rock those purple
–let’s call them
Tights of shame
And glory. Please, please
Say those knee-pads are only for effect? At least
This girl knows that you have to be
In it to win it!
Commitment may just be her strongest suit?
Just a touch of
Understated
Lacy veil
Is what this outfit needs if I am
Ever going to
Triumph in this year’s Fug Madness
Tournament.
Everyone else will look pale by comparison.
Leaving aside my
Elegant black gloves,
Wouldn’t you agree that my
Inspired tights/kneepads combo
Superbly caps off the ensemble?
So, Juliette
Those drapes you ordered
Really should be used
As drapes.
Now, it seems you think they
Go on your face.
Easy mistake.
Don’t be embarrassed.
Anyone could make that error.
You’re working it.
Sincerely, Lady Gaga
Are you trying to look insane?
Showing up here, aping Lady Gaga?
So sad, you had to steal kneepads from the set;
Hope Drew isn’t mad.
At least your boyfriend-on-the-side, Vince Vaughn
Took a powder and didn’t see you in this state.
Weirdly unlike any
Human form.
Almost more alien
Than all
The other
Horrendous,odd and just plain
Extravagantly
Fugly outfits she
Usually
Goes out in.
Invisibility Cloak:
In a far off land
No one could see
Virtually any things
If you were underneath
So she thought she would try
It was such a cunning disguise
But who are we kidding
It was worth the try
Little did it work?
To hide what’s beneath
Yards of purple belts and
Crazy knee pads
Lewis, just so you know
Our eyes still can see
And no magical cloth could
Keep in all that crazy
Shimmering red curtain-veil,
Anchored on a ponytail.
Foot-entangling, face-obscuring,
Evidently vision-blurring
Tripping hazard — it’s a classic.
Yuck boo, duck stew, truck goo, suck poo!
Fearless, Julie mocks the fates,
Injury anticipates,
Rocking pads on her patellas –
Sorry to mislead ya, fellas!
Tripping? Just the light fantastic.
Gah ^ anonymous @ 9:19 was me.
Why hide thy sweet visage, J. Lew?
Thy grimace so fierce and hardcore,
Forehead slick with sweat as with dew?
Oh, for those lost days of yore;
Myriads of screeches and sneers
Gracing your facial trapdoor.
Lead us back to those halcyon years!
Off with your crumply face-shrug,
Let us resume frantic cheers!
Go forth with your changeable mug.
Forget those O’Days and Bai Lings,
You yourself are the Madness of Fug.
If i had to guess from the knee pad
The Other Sister looks a huge mess.
Starsky and Hutch but with way more plaid
Picture Claire daines in a fug dress.
I have Cape Fear so i’m betting
Natural born killers, tho i bluff.
Kalifornia is the setting, yet
Enough is enough.
You n your stylist sit down for some talks.
Eye spy Strange Days upon a, Mrs Mallory Knox.
Forgive me,
Unless you are blind.
Good God, I scare myself…
Least this veil saves you.
I have no reason
Explaining my fashion insanity.
The Fug Girls won’t leave me alone –
They are right – I am fugtacular!
Every girl’s gotta flaunt some crazy
Let’s just admit that I do it better than most.
Eggplant striped leggings
With kneepads to boot
I know the veil’s a little too long…
So sue me.
Curtains in
Red
Are
Concealing
Keeps
The mystery and
Allure as I
Scream, er sing
This
Inexplicable
Chorus
Guys, you don’t know!
Oh the horror!
For real, and forever,
Unbelievable, but true. So, I’m
Going to Peer 1
You know, just shopping when
Out of nowhere, from
Under a curtain display
Red fabric, possessed
Suddenly launches itself
Envelopes me
Luckily my kneepads
Facilitated my escape, I
Flew out of the store
Fearing to look back
Only to find
Red fabric, still there
Encompassing my body
Vying for my spotlight. Now
Enmeshed forever, know me as
Red Fabric Corpse Bride.
Brides always choose
Run of the mill outfits. Really,
It’s boring. How about something
Different? I’ve got it -
Estee Lauder be damned -
Zombie Bride!
I’ll swath myself in yards of bloody tulle, and
Launch myself at the groom
(Luckily I’ve got these kneepads).
All you girls in white dresses can bite me.
Natural born fugger-
Ever licked by fashion,
What can you hide from us?
Rows of corn, no – it’s been done.
Oh, do unveil and let us squeal!
Might you don a crash helmet?
A plethora of pleather?
Not as if you dress for the weather.
Thank God you keep your trademark feathers.
It’s a mad mad world, as you once sang, and
Quite how mad I was not aware,
Until I tasted the sweet honey of your wardrobe.
Even now I marvel at your glory:
Sweet purveyor of all that is fugly.
Lewis and the Licks are no more
Alas!
Cause now we can’t hear Juliette croon
You’re Speaking My Language live with
Craig Fairbaugh hidden behind this
Odious insecurity blanket.
Unusually enough,
She felt the need to hide her crazy outfit
In swaths of lacy red mosquito
Netting.
Is this “romantique”?
The science fiction pants appall me.
Lo and behold.
Over on stage right!
Omg.
Ka-rayzeee!
I think she doesn’t realize that she’s
Not, like, 23 anymore.
Time to maybe…
Oh, I don’t know.
Perhaps a trip to
Ann taylor?
No…that’s too much too soon. Can we…
Try the Gap, maybe?
SAY YES.
“God, you guys are an awesome crowd!
I’m rocking this extravaganza!
(Little hard to see your faces
Behind my veil of blood organza.)
Everybody get out of your seats, ’cause
Rocking out’s what we came here for!
(Though, if you wanna play dodgeball, I’m wearing Globo-Gym couture).”
All excellent, but you have to give it to Jenny for the Cape Fear spell-out. Brilliance.
What I wouldn’t give
To be a
Fly on Lady Gaga’s wall right now
OR
Booooooooooo!
Red crooning Ringwraiths are IT, baby!
Always plan your custome carefully
Include kneepads and a support mic
Nevermind eyeholes, though
See with your inner crazy eye
So long, bitches!
Silent Hill II soundtrack, here I come!
! … !!!!!!!!!
Knowing of the tragic wreck that is our
Nutjob Juliette, this
Egregious abuse of taffeta
Elicits no more than a minor fug.
Perhaps attention should be paid to
A pair of knee pads well-displayed, for
Despite their bump, set, spike appeal,
She doesn’t seem the type to kneel.
Come on Juliette.
Really, it’s like you’re not even trying
At the
Crazy anymore.
Keep those
Kneepads
In your bedroom for your
Love
Life.
Seriously.
Maybe you thought it was funny to
Appear as an evil queen, from a tale where
Love conquers all
Except, this outfit is a hideous
Fug, fug, fug, fug
I personally think you’ve lost your
Common sense
Enough, Juliett!
No more or you’ll be sent to
The tower atop the turret, Just like
Sleep Beauty did before she fell asleep
Don’t think she won’t take her
Revenge on you
Especially because you stole her dress
Silly, silly girl
Shame you covered your head with that
Red bed curtain
Enoug Juliett! Enough Fugs!
Time to rethink your stylist
Unfortunately, no one else may take you, it’s
Risky you see
No one thinks the evil queen
Is a flattering look
Too fugly!
Too fugly!
Once you’ve revisited sanity
Disney will no longer need to sue you
If you return that outfit
She needs it back
No one wants an
Evil queen without her dress
You know it’s true, this is fug-center.
Cape of lava
Artistically
Portrays
Epidemic of
Fugliness
Evident
Around
Rocks stars formerly known as actresses.
Behold! Juliette Lewis,
Reigning queen of heinous
In all honesty, she bores me
Doesn’t she ever wake up and say:
E-gads! I’ll wear a lovely strapless ballgown!
Only to change her mind at the last minute
For reasons unknown to mere-mortals.
Frolicking on stage in screams and knee-pads is
Ultimately more rewarding.
Go fug yourself, she says. I dated Brad Pitt.
B oy oh boy, Fug Nation said
A river of red runs over her head
T he Wicked Witch tights
S uch strange attire
H uge knee pads from an umpire
I t seems she thinks she is a vamp
T hough really, this is top shelf camp
C ould this be any more a mess?
R ed feathers form a boa, we guess
A s always she goes to extremes
Z ounds Ms. Juliet, your crazy themes
Y ou give us all the worst of dreams
Guys, don’t you love it?
Always trying to up the ante, I just
Gotta push the envelope!
All you unoriginal saps, take note.
What could be more transgressive than
A sheet of red lace covering my face? Ha!
Now you can’t even see me!
No, I won’t conform to your image-obsessed ways.
A part of the machine? Never! I was simply
Born to rebel! Just to look at me is to be
Exposed to a true visionary.
Why wear a hat when
A red drape will do?
Cause you know if you looked normal, us
Kids would be so blue
I can’t remember a time when your
Taste was ever boring,
Underneath that scarlet wallhanging,
Drop some kneepads to keep us from snoring.
Ever, and forever, our fug friend to the end, amen.
Juliette, my love,
Are you trying to hide from our review?
Crimson veils can’t mask your crazy
Kneepads…Fug Fabu!
And, your hands- Jacko or Madonna?
Sing, you brilliant monstrosity.
Schizophrenic or superb, we adore you.
Behold! Juliette Lewis,
Reigning queen of heinous,
In all honestly, she bores me.
Doesn’t she ever wake up and think:
E-gads, I’ll wear a lovely strapless ballgown!
Only to change her mind at the last minute
For reasons unknown to mere-mortals.
Frolicking on stage in screams and knee-pads is
Ultimately more rewarding, apparently.
Go fug yourself, she says. I dated Brad Pitt.
I
Tell you, it
Seems
Like
I
Know how to write an
Emotionally appealing, albeit
Curmudgeonly,
Observation about F…
Uggly
Singers
In really awful bands like the
New Romantiques, but
I
Try this time and struggle because
Miss (Mrs? Miss?) Lewis’s ostensibly fine
Ass is wrapped in industrial tubing bestraddled with
Ribbons.
Ribbons
I say, and that is not
Emotionally appealing because,
Damn,
Juliette Lewis is not actually F…
Uggly. It’s just that those
Damn kneepads make me want to
Yell
“Julliete Lewis, you are not in a sports
Equipment store, nor do you play
Tight end for the Green Bay Packers,
So, wear something sensible for crying out loud.”
Oh, I want to yell that, but
No I don’t
Noble nun
Acid habit
Tragic rainbow
Insane goddess
Oh, Juliette
No one compares
A rose by any other name
Loves the loony just as sweet(ly)
Truly gifted in
Revealing the crazy
Even when the face is covered
Are the kneepads there
So that
U are protected when u
Realize what you are wearing and
Even fall to your knees in self-worship?
New band,
Old ridiculaughable look.
Do you ever get tired
Of looking like a strung-out alien?
No, we gather not.
Typical.
Adele from Kalifornia,
Nobody likes an iridescent floor-length veil.
Ditto black knee pads.
Stabby, you are making us.
Terrified, we are of your shoulder feathers.
Obviously, you will never get
Pitt (Brad) back looking like that.
Really Juliette,
I don’t think you own mirrors.
Dominatrix volleyball player
Over purple tights?
Not that original.
Keep trying to
Upstage
Lady Gaga. And get rid
Of the window treatment.
U look like a Satanic bride for the love of
Sweet baby Jesus.
Look at me you guys!
I’m over here, please be nice
Check it out!
Keep looking and don’t laugh out loud
Sorry… a toeless boot is only for inner crowd
You know, after years in the game
One would think you’d know the power of
Understatement
‘Cause this monstrosity begs for a prompt
Reminder./ Allow me to
Elucidate.
Natural Born Killers and The
Other Sister make you look normal, compared
To this.
Genuine artist often change up their
Act./You’re being upstaged by
Gaga, who’s rebirthing your exhausting
Ass
Never did I think I’d have to ask
Even of our lady Juliette,
Where’d you buy those curtains?
Futuristic? I hope not.
Ugly, that is most definitely for sure.
Griswold was her name, but now Chevy Chase is frowning.
My, we all know she can be so cute.
Anybody can tell that she’s having fun,
Not that fun excuses knee pads.
This might be why Brad Pitt left her.
I want to like her. She’s so spunky.
Quagmire of the clothing kind.
Unconditional love this girl has, for leather and crazy.
Epic fail, I would think.
She’s certainly trying for Fug Madness 2010.
Oh, Juliette,
Dost thou have no shame?
Enough, deranged goddess of vulgarity.
The Fug Madness title is thine own.
Off with the carmine curtain,
Away with the…wait. what’s that?
Feathers?
Explain please.
Are you seriously wearing a vest of feathers?
That’s just too much.
How could that have seemed like a good idea?
Even you could not possibly think this is cool.
Ribbed purple tights, red veil, kneepads, asymetrical shirt, tulle bow, driving gloves, ugly boots and…feathered vest.
Vest Of Feathers!?!?!
Ever fugly diva of the distasteful,
Stop trying so hard.
Tacky comes to you naturally- there’s no need to force it.
Ooops ^ that was me
Carla Tate,
?A sane person would wonder
Perhaps if you had lost your mind.
Except that you dress like this on a
Fairly regular basis.
Either that or you are
At a
Roller derby sponsored by Lady Gaga
just because
u both make music and are
lunatics doesn’t mean
i understand this
extreme fashion fracas
all Gaga on top and Juliete underneath.
notice the knee pads
dangling tulle and
gloves
a perfect hybrid topped with
glorious waves of Ladylike lace
all she needs is a huge blonde wig
silver face jewels and oddly applied
lipstick
oh faceless fashion victim
voice your dulcet sorrow over those
excellent boots involvement in this
calamitous outfit topped off by the
horrible pairing of purple and red
is one open toed?
love is blind and often
disturbing… just like this outfit
Freaking feathery superhero, I am
Even cooler than an ICESTORM
Aren’t you amazed at how
These pants represent the MUSIC
Heed my kneepads minions
Especially if you think you’re WORTHY
Remember I’m all about the music
Can’t you tell via my exposed TOE?
Only the best and brightest
Would ever bedeck themselves
LIKE SO.
What could make this
Outfit look better?
Well, lots…
Know what?
No one should have to
Endure this
Ensemble.
Please, give us a break
After staring at GAGA every day, we
Deserve one
Sincerely, US
Is this Juliette’s way
Not even knowing she’s doing it
Subconsciously
Aiming to become Drew?
(k)Nee pads are for Roller Derby
In that they protect your knees
That you would use them like this
Yells “I WANTED THAT MOVIE!”
Take my music seriously
Hats are so tragic
Everyone wants to wear my veil
Oh how I wish people would understand
The things I do for rock & roll cred
How many people can pull of knee pads?
Even my band is starting to stare
Really hoping nobody notices that my
Singing is second to fashion
I want relevance
So maybe if I dress like Lady Gaga
Then people will care about me again
Even I’m aware of my place in this world..
Remember when I used to date Brad Pitt?
(Juliette & the Licks lyric mash-up, with a little extra, and to the tune of nothing in particular)
Like the blood in your face when I tore up your bed
I got a man so blind you can’t see my head
Come on baby let’s fight fight fight yeah
Knocked to the floor my head opened and poured
Try, can’t you, to read my poker face
Hey I’m so sorry for you now cos you’ll never live me down
I felt like nothing was real, like a gutted sheep
Spinning yarn and lace up and down the cracks of your face
Get it in quick were in a hot pursuit
And whatever else you’d like to shoot
Get it in throw in your cheap shots, cheap shot baby
And all my tomorrows won’t save me today
There once was a girl from space.
Her clothing was ripped up black lace.
Every time she performed,
All the people were warned,
Take care where you stare,
Every red veil will scare…
Rely on your gut, about-face!
Bestial shoulder-pads
Ride proudly under sheathing red
Iridescent curtain hair
Despite all this, it’s not
Enough, striped tights also must reign
Oh, Juliette, don’t ever
Forget your kneepads, for soon you will
Sink to the floor, your efforts
All in vain, for your love is taken and
There is no need for
A
New Bride of Satan
Knees are precious gifts
Needing extra wrapping
Especially on stage.
Excessively
Perspiring
Actress rocker girl,
Don’t you feel so, so, so
So sad that you are no longer with Brad?
Purple tights and
Unsightly boots do
Not make you a
Kitschy rocker babe.
Really, what happened to
Our sweet Juliette who
Co-starred in Gilbert Grape? Please
Kindly refrain from
Wearing your
Acid-inspired wardrobe, because
No one understands your odd obsession with gloves.
Neoprene knee pads
Are all fine and good,
But what is next?
Emulating Robin Hood?
Ode to Juliette, a Shakespearean Tragedy
Hark, Juliette, fair lady, I know your tale of woe
Ever since Brad Pitt left you, you’ve been despondent so
A cry for his attention, your outfit screams your pain
Donning black gloves and knee pads, shouting his name in vain
Cursing Brangelina, you lie awake in bed
A Pax upon their houses, a curtain on your head
See, you are sun still rising, so doff your sheer pink case
Embrace the day, my darling, and show the world your face.
Bridal wear for
Extraterrestrials is
Amazingly hard to find.
Matrimonial dress
Must include protective
Exoskeletal kneepads, and
Unless you have no virtue to speak of,
Purple and black are the colors of choice.
Flying in hyperspace may cause
Unusual rips and tears in your
Garment. feathers may unexpectedly
Grow from your pores. as such, always cover
Your face with fabric reminiscent of entrails.
F or the love of all that is holy
U nderneath that flowing veil of death’s bride
G irlfriend is crazy delusional
L et’s hold an intervention
I n whatever alternate world she lives
N ew Juliette will emerge tastefully dressed
E veryone however might mourn the
S ad sad loss of a top-seed
S cary sister from Fug Madness
Lovely Juliette, lost you are
In a blood-red body veil,
Crazy pants in cyborg style,
Kooky feather fancy ruff;
Should we love, or must we FUG?
When you’re there Juliette
How could I ever regret
Anything I’ve ever worn
Thinking about it, anything I’ve ever done.
Tong-tied, I think you’ll find me
Hey, I think I am blown away
Especially with the veil, blimey.
Hi, Juliette and the Licks
Excuse me, I’ve got to pick
Lewis, I like your kneepads
Lewis, I love your crazypants.
Headdresses are fugly
Elaborate lace is a bore
Let me exit this nightmare
Lest you sing, “Death of a Whore”.
Taut pleather pants
Ostrich, owl feathers
Take off those silly rags
Hell, Courtney Love dresses better!
Enough of the nonsense
Now sing, “Sticky Honey” then it’s
Off to a stylist, we know you have money!
Oh Jules,
Hard times have hit even you.
Honestly – you’re recycling
Our Lady of Gaga,
Nifty “Whip It” knee pads, a used
Ethan Allen sheer panel, and
Your grandma’s “ho” boots?
Noooo! Bring back your
Original fug, please
!
Bellowing earnest metal
Underneath taffeta sheath
Ragin’ at the machine
Kindly
Avert your eyes
Ok JL, time to break it down
Let us forget that veil for a moment
Do you really think knee pads are wise?
Sometimes less is more
Crazy only gets you so far
Holy hell, is that tulle?
Oh sweet Jesus, those Grimace pants…
Oscar de la Ridiculous
Lady Gaga you are not
Baby, I’m the intergalactic matador
Regular clothes are such a bore
In my sparkly shredded tutu, I’m a maniac on the floor
Dressed by Little Edie Beale in the Grey Gardens in my soul
Everything about me is totally hardcore
Oh some blame the drugs I did– they think it took a toll
For they don’t understand I just have terra incognita to explore
Man, I had to pluck the bird of madness for this shirt that I adore
And haven’t found feathers this divine since I went mining peacock ore
Didn’t mean to rip my sleeve when I jumped out of the stage door
Need to find a sequined patch at my favorite haberdashery store
Endless uses for knee pads, wish I discovered this heretofore
Should have worn that helmet from the Peloponnesian War
Sometimes I can’t believe all of the awesome I’m responsible for
Dear Juliette, oh Juliette
Even prom-wear needs some chutzpah
All those memories that scarred you
The times from high school
Having no prom date
Often being alone
Forgotten like the ubiquitous Carrie
Alike in that you both also wear pigs blood. You ask?
Can’t you see this is a curtain? I am
Under the red glow of society
Really, I am not trying to be Carrie
To be fair, I rock my
Anger better than an
Inept psychic chlid whose
Numerous issues are small compared to mine. DIE!
Maybe she’s a medieval ninja
And just came from volleyball practice,
Just because that’s what ninjas do.
Only she found the Beetlejuice veil
Right across the street in the
Disheveled Goodwill store
In her own alternate universe.
She stood and
Thought, “Wow! This will keep everyone from
Raising eyebrows at my singing
And make me look avant garde like that Lady Gaga.
Cackling, she plots how
To make herself look like a hard core rocker.
Instead of performing she can just rock
Out while she looks like Kabbalah Madonna.
No one will notice, right?
I love that all these challenges are in poetry. I can’t wait for Bai Ling’s sestina.
Here’s the thing, Juliette:
You are fun and carefree.
Sure, wonderful words
To hear as compliments.
Ergo, it gives me
Real displeasure
In having to
Compare this outfit to
A wedding dress worn by
Lydia Deetz.
Beetlejuice was a great movie, no
Lie. But this was a costume
In a movie,
Not in real life. May you
Deign to try some other less
Nonsensical costume inspration?
Even one of your own movie roles? For
Surely an affliction from one
Spoke to you before putting this on.
Never consult Juliette here
EVER for styling advice,
Why, she’d strap some dead birds
Round your shoulders and thighs.
Oh she’d loan you her knee-pads
Making you matching hot messes,
And then she’d suggest you show your crotch more
Nodding as she corn-rows your tresses.
Tis unbelievably hard to believe
-
I’m seeing a girl who once dated Brad Pitt,
Cause now she certainly looks like
Krazy tulle-clad Cousin It.
Scarlet widow,
Each rock star needs a guise to
Clear her path of lesser mortals.
Red veil -
Eyes concealed
To heighten your mysterious mojo,
Legs like armadilloes -
You sing to us of your love.
And even though you need to
Wear kneepads,
Everyone will forgive you;
Some of us are sad
Or rather, me, I am sad, that
My life doesn’t
Ever look as fun as yours.
What an interesting gal she is
Her talent is endless
Angsty singer
Theatrical movie star
A favorite quote is hard to choose
Nevertheless
It would have to be “And we
Did
It
On
Thanksgiving”
Red ‘hair’
Accompanied by striped tights
Give an impression
Grotesque in nature.
Everyone knows
Dressing like this makes you look crazy, desperate or dumb
Yet that might have been the intent.
All I can say is
No!
No!
But, hark! From the East, I can see
Juliette, as clear as the sun, made lovely yet mad by her attire.
Oh, what marvels are cast by the shadows of her head covering,
Red as the dawn upon which we will make our way to northern lands.
Kin will find us there, to live in sartorial harmony forever.
Wearing my rock and roll burqua
Hands in leather and lace
All the emotion in the world is here
Too bad you can’t see my face
The look in my eyes would melt you
Hell lives in my knees
Enter at your own peril
For I am an artiste!
Until you have walked in my granny boots
Get off my cloud!
This outfit is so
Her, its the absolute
Epitome of insanity!
No explanation necessary,
Everything about it
Wails JULIETTE!
Flowing head cover,
Ugly as sin knee pads
God awful tights are not pants!
My oh my, one sleeve!?
And wait, is that misguided tool?
Now this is extra crazy,
Those might be ROOSTER FEATHERS
In the back!!!
Cute
Shoes though
Is this really Juliette?
Supposedly so
Too bad her face
Hides from us
Apparently shes mourning the death of
The Licks
A show
Coming our way
Understanding Your Window Treatments:
Revealing Their Place in Your Wardrobe
This is Juliette’s new gig
A sure fire hit for Home and Garden TV
Imagine all the guest stars!
New ones everyday!
On today’s show Lady Gaga and her
New ideas for hiding
Your face in shame
Our lovely host Juliette
Understands our reservations
Really, she swears:
Hot pants and knee pads
Engulfed in fabric
Always a crowd pleaser!
Daytime TV will never be the same
Bad
Ass
Thinks
She
However;
I disagree and
Think
Crazy
Rather
Aptly describes her
Zany
Yucky choice
Under this lace
Reveals a face
Not to be graced
On monetary exchanges.
To be respected,
Ladies are expected,
And even inspected,
Disinfected,
And protected.
Go on, dear
Aural seer;
Gestapo may hear
And shed a tear.
We, a nation bathed in naivety,
Had no vision of the future.
All sad, simple innocence
Trusting in your faraway brown eyes
Sweet smile, sweet face, pink cheeks.
Each lilt of your voice
An invitation to love you
To hold you in our arms
In our hearts.
Never to let you go. Just like him.
Grape.
Gilbert Grape.
In those times, you were innocent.
Lamb-soft and birdlike:
Becky. Sweet Becky.
Except now, you’ve lost your luster.
Replaced it with lacquer. Cold and hard.
Tragic, but fanciful. Technicolor; Romantique.
Go forth, stage-bound siren.
Revel in your spotlight,
All kicks and Licks and banshee calls
Praytell, sweet Becky? Where have you gone?
Ever far, forever gone.
Typically, celebrity singers
Are criticized in performance
For lip synching,
For being intoxicated and/or for
Exposing themselves, aka
The dreaded wardrobe malfunction.
Actress, Juliette Lewis, however,
Does not condemn those guilty of the above.
Rather she presents
A “fashionable” solution to
Prevent the public discovery of all three
Embarrassments.
It may not make much sense to you.
Long red doily-looking thing over her face–
On top of kooky kneepads
Vying for our attention…
Ever since I first saw her in the Woody Allen movie,
Heating up the screen with her sloe-eyed glamour,
Evidently she captured my heart.
Regardless of her antics onstage. Give the girl a break!
Riding a wave of veilitude she appears.
Over the airwaves she calls.
My Juliette wails – wherefore art thou my birdman?
Alas this veil is my only protection from their looks.
Now all I see is organza
That I am safe is not noticed.
Ever prepared I am for falls.
Envelope me for I am ready.
Knee pad protection will stop the fug.
So, Juliette Lewis
Anything new with you?
Don’t answer that question
No, I think I can tell
Evidently you’re up to the
Same old,
Same old
Please me, my love, and open this briquette….a hot briquette for Juliette
Only then can I select the foreign polymers for your spunbond cape of fear
Low, sweet Juliette, you are my foreign matter and I shall never remove your exothermic film!
You are my PET and should never prewash without cutting, for I am drawn to your messy bedhead of desire
Every would be rock-n-roll star needs her polymerized soil, stones and metal
Strange days are ahead, so sing your crazy songs of air sifting
The time is to grind, both dry and wet – only then can we be quenched
Even then, a hot wash could never, and I say NEVER!
Remove the low density crystallinity of your natural born beauty.
True love calls for etching, rinsing, drying, sifting, spinning, baling
Each caustic surface etch decontaminates my heart – a monomer is formed
Rinse! A clean water rinse after we kalifornicate from dusk to dawn
You should dry your eyes sweet being, pants are not required in this exothermic passion
Love, can you not see the shimmering air sifting flakes…or are you the only flake?
Entrust your insanity to be solidified by the flow of cool, dry air
Never think the monomers of our desire have been compromised
Enchantress, now is the time for fibre quality control – bale.
Just don’t hate on me
U can’t see me
Lets be rational
I need to hire Zoe
Ew, I have zits, I wish not to embrace
Thats why you cannot see my face
Tights, Toile, and knee pads on
Education on fashion, I am the FUG of all
Dear Juliette,
Oh Sweetheart, you have done it
Not sure what
To think of this
But I’m sure
Even now you know
Lord you must see
Appalling little Tim Burton Goalie Bride
Donning a creepy face cover that hides us from
You does not hide you from us
God, Juliette, a Romeo is
All you need right now. ‘Cause
Girl, this is worse
A tragedy than Shakespeare’ll ever know
Strange but true
Perplexing and crude
A woman all covered in red cloth
Really looks like she could be a huge moth?
Evil she looks to me
U should all agree
She could be the devil in disguise
Perhaps this really isnt wise
Looking at her could turn us to stone!
Exhale slowly,turn around & dont let out a moan
An exorcism’s what we might need to arrange
Satan’s taken hold, she looks really derranged!
Even J Lews’ not that crazy, is she?
-Sara C
Juliette,
Unless you are auditioning for a
New wave version of The Headless Horseman
I must say this to you –
Oh
Really?!
Very very
Alarming are the
Roller derby/volleyball knee pads and
Severed-head chic
Imitation of Lady Gaga
That rather than you wearing them are clearly wearing (devouring)
You.
Young children are seriously
Disturbed by the
Excess yardage that
Bursts from your jugular
And your torso’s
Cloak of roadkill.
Lewis,
Enough!
Wear fug art thou, Juliette?
Headscarves born of regret
And fear thy may fall
Cascading down like
Kites unlaced and unbound.
Egregious grape leggings
Damned further by pads of knee
Oh, can’t thy see? Not!
Unless you part the crinkling sea;
Tresses flowing free as you
Sigh into the microphone,
Hot Damn!
I was blind, now so are
Thee
Get a long red veil, preferably stain resistant,
And drape it like brain lava over your head.
Go fug yourself is your motto. Words to live by.
And style? Chinese Bride/Kabuki Girls Gone Wild.
But wait, there’s more, there’s
A nod to the Black Crows
In your plumage poncho. Cape Jeer, perhaps?
Like,birds had to DIE so you could look stupid.
I’m a singer and performer and artist, you argue,
Not just some Reaver Chick. I’m a Rocker
Girl, and I’ve got all the right stuff
Like lots of dripping sweat and glazed eyes and
Oily skin and sticky honey songs and
Visions of gutted sheep hugging my space pants,
Echoing in my brain. And rude finger gestures and
Crotch thrusts, blue eyeshadow and stuff. So
Hear this people! My current band,
It’s The New Romantiques. We’re hip. And the
Licks are no more than what my
Dog Gilbert does to his “grapes” so Rock On!
Ignore
The red
Sheet for a moment and
Examine what is going on down below.
Even lower, at the toes.
Ms. Juliette, did you
Slice off the toe of ONE of your boots?
Like, maybe
I’m hallucinating, is that glare? Or was she
Keen to let one foot
Escape a bit?
Only Juliette would
Not be satisfied with the amount of crazy
Emmanating-nay, exploding-above.
Oh fair Juliette, why are you hiding your
Face?
Your red sheet is
Odd and
Unsettling. Not
Romantique.
But can we also talk about the tights?
Obviously a cry for help.
Oh my, they are stripey.
Though they aren’t even the
Stupidest part.
I believe that honor goes to the knee pads.
So stupid. Sorry, Juliette.
OK, so maybe you are just
Prepared for the
Energetic stage antics that are likely,
No, definitely, going
-
To accompany this
Outfit.
Even the gloves could be practical in that respect.
Doubt that one lace sleeve is, though.
And what is that
Nasty mess of seemingly
Damaged fabric
Trying
Half-heartedly to escape from under the sheet?
Engulfing your torso and petering
Out around your nethers.
That perhaps is the reasoning behind the long
Head scarf? Perchance
Even Juliette
Requires a degree of modesty.
I’ll admit, it’s not likely.
So back to the question at hand:
Nothing wrong with her boot,
Or did she really cut off one of the
Toes?!
L et the muses join me here
I shall have nothing to fear
V erily, I am wearing a curtain
E ach item of clothing is crazy for certain
T he boots, the tights, the kneepads, the dress
O pen your soul to my sartorial mess
R esplendent in fug I scream through the panel
O ut of my mind all emotions I channel
C arried away by the power of sound
K nowing that only to rock am I bound.
Fashion don’t is how I roll!
Unreasonably I hold on to this style.
Great! I say when the Fug Girls attack.
Too much tulle to see my reflection,
A mirror is not my friend.
Calculated in my fashion mistakes,
U know u want my tights.
Loving the press good or bad.
A talentless singer though I am,
Relentlessly I keep on keeping on.
_________________________________________________
Have you seen my talent?
Other people have it in spades,
Though I am not one of them.
My refection wounds me.
Eyes must be covered by veil,
So that I can not see me,
So that I can not see me.
________________________________________________
Terrible fashion sense (if you can call it that).
Running around dressed like
A cheap rip off of the wicked witch
In those hideous tights and knee-pads.
No! She will not look at herself.
Which is why she covers her face in that
Red veil of lies.
Everyone has said,
Come on girl! You can do better than the
Kooky-Cracked-Out look.
______________________________________________
Oh honey no!
How can you continue to look like a
Halloween costume gone wrong?
Others say you do this for attention.
Nay! I say, she thinks she looks good.
Everyone laughs behind your back, girl!
Yes, I swear they do.
Never once have you tried to look nice.
Often I wonder why ….
________________________________________________
Now, seriously.
Anyone can get
Tired of the
Usual outfit,
Right?
Am I right?
Look at this!
Black and purple tights,
Orange veil,
Ruffled sleeves and corset (I think).
Now this is fashion!
For what possible
Use are the
Gloves, you ask?
Gloves that don’t even match! (I think)
Elementary, my dear.
Rubbing my
Saliva off the microphone, of course.
Who hideth under purple veil?
Her face is hard to see.
At least we all can gaze upon
The padding on her knee.
There seems no rhyme nor reason to
Her wondrous, strange attire
Enlighten us, oh shrouded one
Fear not the fug girls’ ire.
Unmask your face, don’t hide your light
Gauze can’t disguise you well
?you just forgot to wash your hair?
!don’t worry, we can’t tell!
Forget what you know of color and style.
Unlearn what you think of tutus and smile.
Good news has come for you who adore
Boots bedazzled on the singer of “Death of a Whore.”
Red tulle cascaded in waves from her face.
In true fug fashion, she’s lacking in grace.
Drugs, insanity and money clearly inspire
Eggplant tights with black stripes and boas on fire.
Forgive me for requesting some common sense;
Rock stars should never abuse “artistic license.”
O Juliette, sweet Juliette, something’s amiss-
Must you sing such songs as “Hot ride” and “Hot Kiss”?
Sequined corsets, satin gloves, and one sleeve that’s holey??
Perhaps that’s what one wears as rocker and goalie.
All things considered, though hot mess this may be,
Can’t imagine Ms. Lewis in something less than crazy.
Each to her own, on that we agree…
Face covered with scarf,
Useless knee pads,
Gunbelt made of Steven Tyler’s cast-off scarves,
Lady Gaga wishes she could be
You, Juliette.
I am wearing
A red veil to symbolize
Menstruation, which should be called
Womenstruation, to protest years
Of phallocratic oppression.
Male-dominated society is so dated…
As tired as my wackadoodle stage persona.
Now, where was I? Ah yes…
Herstory is being written on this stage!
Exciting, isn’t it?
And I am writing it with my kneepads!
Radical, isn’t it?
My outfit is an
External
Representation of my internal reproductive
Organs, which are totally
Awesome, unlike penises, which are
Really really ugly.
I am wearing
A red veil to symbolize
Menstruation, which should be called
Womenstruation, to protest years
Of phallocratic oppression.
Male-dominated society is so dated…
As tired as my wackadoodle stage persona.
Now, where was I? Ah yes…
Herstory is being written on this stage!
Exciting, isn’t it?
And I am writing it with my kneepads!
Radical, isn’t it?
My outfit is an
External
Representation of my internal reproductive
Organs, which are totally
Awesome, unlike penises, which are
Really really ugly.
Really Juliette?
Ever the fashion enigma
Donning yet another crazy ensemble.
Bad hair day?
Under all that crinkliness is a
Really cute girl who was once my teen idol
Kelly Bundy.
And you were truly
Hillarious in
Old School! What with your
Freaky-deaky
Sexual tendencies!
How dost one sing through
All that
Madness?
Et tu, Juliette
Blood
Red tulle lies over, concealing
Inner wonders, but not
Dampening primal screams of raging rock.
Eagles died for this shirt? Oh, no! Those
Omniscient know feathered friends
Fought jealously for the honor–the
Final sacrifice to the cause of fug.
Remembering, revering, recalling their naked carcasses
Are my pointy boots and
Nobly outstretched claw-like hand. Yes, TALONS!
KNEE PADS!!!
Embrace me and cease your worriting:
No right sleeve? Wherefore, Juliette?
Stopping to play volleyball later?
Tights or pants? These questions matter not!
Einstein even could not answer. Lo,
Imminent now is the time of my unveiling, yet…
NO! Do not fear what lies beneath! Accept and worship sartorial bliss.
Brad Pitt, you are missing out.
Remember when our romance was the hot ticket?
I would have gladly worn this for you, as I
Declared my love and swore my vows to you, and
Every wedding guest would have cried.
Of course, you ruined everything by not arriving
For my Power Rangers themed ceremony.
F* F* F* F* you and F* you some more //
— F* you and F* you and F* you some more.
Unless, perhaps, you still want me…?
Get dressed in your best feathered crown and
Ghastly lace tights, my sweet.
Endless love awaits you under this red veil,
Nearly aquiver with knee-padded,
Sweaty-foreheaded,
Toulle-draped,
Eye-searing,
Incomprehensible joy. Am I crazy?
Nay! Today I marry my destiny!
F orget your worries for a Sunday night
U ugly football uniform-like might
G athered in its fury by our poor Juliette
L ost in her veil, meant a safety mask to get
E legance lost like a Marilyn Manson perversion
W hat person wears this, no matter the coercion?
I really think an intervention would help
S o Juliette next time give intern George a yelp.
F orever sexy, he is the go to for rocking glam
U nderstand right now you look a goth slam
G o, now, go and and please please please change!
Kiss me, Mephistopheles, my devil-groom,
And slurp the endearments, spewing from vulgar lips
Lift my crimson veil
Introduce your evil unto me
For I have known only goodness, alas,
Only unspoilt beauty and haute couture
(Ratty black tulle notwithstanding and
Nevermind the naff kneepads)
I venerate you, Satan, my devil-groom,
As mine own true Gaultier.
Whatever are you wearing, Juliette?
Have you lost your mind?
Actually, though,
Those protective knee pads don’t seem like such a bad idea, really…
Those heels and that veil are bound to trip you up.
Help me understand this outfit, please.
Even the Germans are perplexed by its
Fugliness.
Unless, of course, the look you’re going for really is
Goalie-bride meets Victorian space whore
?
Her veil falls
Over her face
Like a cascade of daquiris,
Yet I am not attracted.
Crazy
Are her pants
That appear
From another planet.
Is her mirror broken?
She is mysterious…
Her name is Juliette.
The show’s in two days
WOW ‘em, that’s my plan but
Only one thought on my mind.
Butt-cheap fabric sale at The Barn
Unicorns are pretty.
Car in drive, get me there quick
Krazy-good savings- love me a sale.
Slap my bottom and call me Betty!
Anywho, got me 10 yards
Yes, TWO BUCKS A YARD!
Am planning a curtain/caftan hybrid
Red to hide years of hard livin.
Does it make me look fat?
Woe to the rollerblade vampiress!
Heavy crimson tears of tissue paper befall,
In search of my two-wheeled wraith lover.
Persecute me not, for in desperation
I plummeted into the Labyrinth and
Turned into the Goblin King’s bride!
Fine feathered fairy of doom,
Red blood flows
Endlessly gushing-
And android in tights wearing
Kneepads: for comfort at your execution?
Ichabod’s nemesis, you have become.
Such is your fate, for this
Headless undead fug.
What do you get when you cross
Overripe armadillo carcasses
With a Chinese parade dragon?
The only way this could
Get any better?
If this getup somehow included
Fireworks.
Juliette Lewis’s Performance Art Homage to 40 Years of Sesame Street
Kids, it’s me. Fig Bird.
I was roller skating down
Sesame Street earlier, and I
Forgot to take my knee pads
Off before coming to this
Ritzy party (See my
Killer beadazzled boots?). It seems my
One recourse is to disguise myself,
Only with what? I
Know! I’ll hide behind this translucent curtain!
Yes! Now no one will even know I’m here…
…meanwhile, a storm is brewing:
Blast you, Juliette! How
Am
I ever going to top this?
Losing Fug Madness
Is
Never
Going to happen.
I do love your acting
Sadly your clothes put me off
Anyone with the guts to wear this
Needs their head examined
You take joy in assaulting our eyes
Bother about your looks you do not
Oh dear fuglyette fugis
Do hear me on this
You make us cover our eyes
Household items do not an outfit make
Others may inspire you to look appliance like
Methinks you view items the wrong way
Everyone knows something is not quite right
Since the
MTV music
Awards,
Some have been inspired.
However, you, Juliette,
Are
No Lady GaGa.
Ditch the
Guise, so we can see the
Red
And
Black Feathered jacket instead.
Previous outfits have been crazy.
Leather pants and headdresses aplenty.
Exceptional examples of fugliness.
And yet you arose from the grave.
To shriek at us in your funeral veil.
Haunting us with listless lace and other horrors.
Especially those Power Ranger pants.
Red fabric does not substitute for make-up.
Trying to channel Lady Gaga’s veiled physique
Hindered grandly by alien pillbug layers
Enhanced supersonic personas as yours yeild
No end to my amusement with your failure.
Everyone has a true calling, Juliette…
Would you believe your fashion makes me heave?
Rather than may homage to insects under flames
Oh, Juliette please consider alternate sheaths!
My heart just plummets to the floor
At the sight of you trying to strangle
Not just your body and face but your voice
Toppling sideways at an awkward angle.
In essence you’re egregiously pitiful
Quite certain am I of your demise!
Unless you return from the darkside
Embrace the sweet clothing of earthlings
Saluting normalcy with a great glow of pride!
She was a girl, we were the viewers,
Kan I make it any more obvious?
Ah, she thought she’s a punk,
Though she’s more into Trash
Ew, honey, red table-cloth is such a mash
Rocking the stage with purple leggings is
Growing fuglier every day,
I don’t think Gaga would approve
Running for fugly crown, she wears knee pads as if she’s
Longing for the 90′s to come back.
Red curtained dancing at platform’s edge
Oh Juliette, to you my heart I pledge
Madness of fashion and musical bliss
Ere I die now, promise me this
Only wear kneepads for me.
Keeping your face covered does
Not make you Lady Gaga; however,
Extension of your joints is
Extremely difficult with no sight and roller gear.
Perhaps
Attempts to hide one’s face might instead
Drive Juliette to just
Stop.
Another fug-full Juliette ensemble
Verdict? Quite lacking in aplomb
Always hurling taste far off the ledge
Naught herewith a sprig of “cutting edge”
Though she tries, oh lord she tries!
The great Ms. Gaga, girl you’ll never be
Although you strive with veil and secrecy
Regale with wailing, kneeling pads and glove
Dear heart, we must convey to you with love:
Eh, no. Just no! Our trammeled soul decries!
Do you want to putrefy our eyes?
Lacy glove on outstretched hand
One arm clad in black ACE band
On her feet, such tiny pegs
Kneepads gracing purple legs
Iridescent sheets of red
Nearly smother that girl’s head
Tufts of feathers shyly peek;
On her face – is that a beak?
Pants, my dear, are sadly lacking
And one knows this outfit’s “backing”
Never can be safe for work;
Tulle bows, there by some strange quirk,
Shall never make a decent skirt.
This looks like/
Hmmm/
Either/
Lady Gaga/
Is/
Cast as Ms. Havisham. Or, Juliette is a/
Killer Trekkie Bride of/
Satan.
Yearning hard for fame;
Overdone – you’ve got no shame!
Underneath that scarlet veil we still see a whacked-out dame.
All that netting and that lace -
Is it meant to hide your face?
Now come on girl, say it loud -
That you crazy and you proud!
Gaga you so are not!
OMG is what we thought -
Then we wondered if your brownies had a little too much pot?
No kneepads – no, no, no!
Oh no, oh honey, no!
Antithesis of class:
Likely why Brad chose to pass.
Intern George says, “What a lass!
Bring her here, that little bug,
I will hug away that fug!”
Your tights – what can we say?
Only that we need to pray,
Understanding that it’s Barney that you cruelly chose to slay.
From you we’ll never flee, for
Unfugged you’ll never be!
Go forth my dear, with glee
Licking Romantiquely.
You fugly! eh hey! You fugly!
Crazy
And
Pathologically
Eccentric;
Forever
Entwined
Among
Ribbons.
If you want to know
How come I’m hiding,
Ask the question:
Veils are the new black, right?
Eventually, I will respond
“Aha! You get my
Zeitgeist when
I dressed
This morning.”
Red lace veil hangs
Over my mysterious face
Leaving behind no trace of the
Licks…
Except it is still too easy to
Recognize my silhouette
“Dear me, it’s Juliette!”
Everyone wants a piece of the
Rubber pads on my knees
But I’ll show you
Yes, I’m still rocking the fug.
Got my tights and lace and boots,
I’ll always return to my roots
Reigning queen, fug supreme
Licks or not, I will always be Lewis!
Kill me now, I
Never knew Lady Gaga had a twin.
Either she just came from a Tim Burton’s annual volleyball tourney or she
Expects that the grout in her bathroom will need a good clean after the show.
Please, someone alert Pier One that Ms. Lewis
Apprehended their table runner from the display as she was
Determined to get a jump on the holidays.
Sorry to report that her other sleeve won’t be making it to Christmas dinner.
Unless of course Woody Harrelson stumbles across
It in Zombieland.
Call Brangelina, we’ve found some crazy for them to adopt.
It almost makes me wonder…
Do you think there’s a wicked witch somewhere,
Envious of her Fall footwear?
Overwhelming assemblage
Drapery, gloves and knee pads, what a mélange!
Eyesore? Burned retinas, no doubt
Though, it should be conceded
Our Juliette has succeeded
Ogled as she preens
Dressed like a futuristic bride machine
Debates stir the crowd (open toed boots?!)
Overwhelming assemblage
Drapery, gloves and knee pads, what a mélange!
Eyesore? Burned retinas, no doubt
Though, it should be conceded
Our Juliette has succeeded
Ogled as she preens
Dressed like a futuristic bride machine
Debates stir the crowd (open toed boots?!)
A lack of self-awareness makes
Suspect appear high from hash-laden cake.
She shameless steals the fruitless ploys of Ga-Ga
Her face gracelessly hidden by a red draping shawl.
Accompanied by garments covered in scuffs, tears and holes
This whole hot mess screams “Oh Honey, No!”
Kinky artisan,
New, recycled schtick,
Eloquently producing homaged works,
Exercising your right to rock,
Pull down your scorching veil,
And proudly claim your fame by name,
Deliberately guising the truth;
Still not Lady Gaga.
But
Look at me
And tell me what you see!
Not Lady Gaga -
King of pop, a-ha.
Even Michael’s son
Thinks this should be undone!
Grizzwald christmas is approaching and
Oh my this get up is craZier than that
Old lady that wrapped up her cat and jello.
Did Clark forget to get you something
Good this year and you’re
Rebelling? ‘Cause holy-squirrels-
In-Christmas-trees!, Uncle
Ed’s got nothing on this
Fug.
Crazy lady, how do you
Open your eyes under that
Red veil? I loathe your
Purple thighs
Stiletto boots and
Egregious knee pads.
Bird feathers on one shoulder,
Ripped lace on just one arm,
Is that teal tulle on your behind?
Did I mention the
Egregious knee pads?
Kandidiasis is
A ghastly stage persona
Lest we be afflicted,
Infected
Floridly subjected
Ocularly molested by the
Red grim reaper
Named Juliette
I absolutely must recommend
A dose of visual Monistat
Gad Zooks!
I’ve been peeling
Little bits of
Brain matter from
Evanescing
Red
Tulle
Good grief!
Relief!
At last
Peace
Evinced in shroud of Licks, not Turin
Onward from my sweaty locks
Hails the veil that represents my soul
Billowing flames searching for your sanity
Like a red dragon waiting to slay you
Oh wait
Oh no
Did I feel an itch behind my kneepads?
Yes I did and I blame it on the
Heels from Hades which prop my granny boots
Ever shall I wear ugly tights for pants
Let the Fug Girls crucify me
Long live the anti-sartorial superhero
Come closer, fug girls,
Reveal my identity…
Aha! It is I, crazypants!
Zany as ever in my wacky ensemble:
Yes, I wear kneepads,
Predictably unpredictable.
And a veil on stage?
Naturally! What else WOULD I wear?
This is art, this is avante-garde!
So suck on this, common decency.
Hello Juliette!
Oh yes, you have a veil on your face.
Tulle on your waist.
Maybe pre-Gaga I could have feigned surprise.
Even your kneecaps provoke only sighs.
So it’s time for a new gimmick (do you need this in writing?)
Soz, you’re still fug, you’re just no longer exciting.
Haha I love how many of these I am doing, loooong day at work clearly.
Greetings from Scotland!
Baby you should see me on a good day,
Long before the need to celebrate my
Ovarian wave of red
Overcomes my fashion senses and brings you
Down down down
Call it what you will,
Lady business rules me still
Oh, the ladies bring it monthly,
Try to stop the rising tide!
Now it’s time to let it flow
Over, over, let it go!
Past the point of fashion caring
And the point of trouser-wearing!
Never doubt the Lewis brings it,
Tries her best and always swings it!
Silly those who can’t accept it!
Baby you should see me on a good day,
Long before the need to celebrate my
Ovarian wave of red
Overcomes my fashion senses and brings you
Down down down
Call it what you will,
Lady business rules me still
Oh, the ladies bring it monthly,
Try to stop the rising tide!
Now it’s time to let it flow
Over, over, let it go!
Past the point of fashion caring
And the point of trouser-wearing!
Never doubt the Lewis brings it,
Tries her best and always swings it!
Silly those who can’t accept it!
Do you
Ever have a
Vision of the horrible things you might
Inspire, Juliette? Sesame Street’s
Lovely first guest this season was
Michelle Obama, but then the director’s chair was
Usurped by Anti-Hensonites who saw Juliette
Perform in feathers while hiding her face.
PBS will be so pissed at 10:00 am
Eastern Standard Time when
The Satanic Sesame Street premieres.
Because sometimes
A girl wakes up
Doesn’t like what she sees in the mirror
Figures no one should see her
A sane person stays home
Crazy people though, wear
Enough fug stuff that
Dead people can see them a mile away
At least they can’t see her face
Yet these corpses still will have nightmares.
No honey no,
Even a rock star
Wannabe
Railing at the world,
Oughtn’t wear
Malignant tights
An orange veil unfurled.
No honey no,
Twisty kneepads,
Injury?
Quintessential fug.
Under it all
Emptiness
Sonic soul’s your drug.
No honey no
Even a rock star
Wannabe
Railing at the world
Oughtn’t wear
Malignant tights
A blood orange veil unfurled
No honey no
Twisty kneepads
Injury?
Quintessential fug
Under it all
Emptiness
Sonic soul’s your drug
S hower
C urtain
A ttacks
R etarded
Y oung
F emale,
U niverse
G ets
E ven for
T asteless
T ransgressions in the
E xtreme
S ing on,
H arlot of
O rlon!
R ely on
T alent
B ecause
U R
S pecial.
S ing on,
H arlot of
O rlon!
R ely on
T alent
B ecause
U R
S pecial.
Better late than ever:
Apparently she
Totally forgot that halloween passed
Some weeks ago.
Honey, hear me out:
It is not ok
To wear this.
Crenoline, is supposed to be for garment support.
Ratty skirt and top? would have been ok
As per those bug-tights?
ZAP’EM
“Y” you wanna look like a centipede.
Jesus!
“U” need to be
Legally bound to follow
Instructions from Tim Gun:
EDIT EDIT EDIT!
Take care of your knees
(Thats what my grandma always says)
Ew, that’s what you’re doing?
Better late than ever:
Apparently she
Totally forgot that halloween passed
Some weeks ago.
Honey, hear me out:
It is not ok
To wear this.
Crenoline, is supposed to be for garment support.
Ratty skirt and top? would have been ok
As per those bug-tights?
ZAP’EM
“Y” you wanna look like a centipede.
Jesus!
“U” need to be
Legally bound to follow
Instructions from Tim Gun:
EDIT EDIT EDIT!
Take care of your knees
(Thats what my grandma always says)
Ew, that’s what you’re doing?
So who do we have here?
Under that veil, it’s quite mysterious.
Red lace flowing behind her and tresses to match, well combined.
Pointy leather boots and kneepads, why not?
Really, it is a daring wardrobe choice.
Isn’t this intriguing, there’s only one sleeve.
So it must be the big day.
Engaged to a goth quarterback.
Singing out her joy on their wedding day.
Utterly daring wedding dress.
Ready to get on her knees for the wedding night.
Pointing her finger, slip the ring on!
Radiant light shining down on her.
It’s interesting how her legs look like snakes. Must be symbolism. Trousersnakes.
Stop! Wait! Look Closer! Oh, it’s Juliette Lewis. She’s performing.
Eh, how banal. Could have tried harder.
It was a cry of pain:
Miss Juliette, briefly sane,
Saw skaters’ kneepads were wrong
Couldn’t finish her song
Amidst her tears and wailing
Recalled Gaga’s fugly veil-ing
Embraced total blindness
Did herself a kindness.
B, please. You look like Stevie Nicks forgot her black caftan
At Lindsay’s house, and hid in shame under
Dorm room-worthy curtains.
Rollerblading gear and a sleeve of rags do not an
Outfit
Make.
Anyone else want Kanye to announce that Gaga does it better?
No pity for you, Jules.
Can’t you just stay home? Thanks for listening. Love,
Everybody.
Pose all crazy!
Scream and yell!
You’re lookin’ at what
Cher’d wear in
Hell!
Wore my scarf-things!
And my ‘pads!
Rocked more nutso fun than you
Dames ever had!
Monday morning, the offspring of the “Performance
Artsy” Lady Gaga and the
Red Monster from Looney Tunes
Tied the knot. Her
Identity was
Affirmed by the
kNeepads-remember Whip It?
But wait- the bride’s sleeves are of
Raven feathers, too.
I’m not sure you can be any more over-
Dramatic (though Gaga tries). Maybe on Mars this is
Equivalent to sanity.
All over the world, Juliette
Brings them to their knees
I see her knees need protection too
Lady Lewis, what do the voices say?
It’s so hard when your
Fifteen minutes are over. There is help for
You. Ask your doctor to change your meds.
She looked in the mirror and thought,
How pedestrian I look in my dominatrix suit!
And the vacuum hoses on my legs a bore,
My knee pads recycled from “Whip It.”
Eager for her fugging, Juliette dons the veil.
Sure
We are all earthy mammals
Eating psychadelic mushrooms
At our own peril
To perchance reach epiphany-
Banged up beyond
Imagination
Tore back, torqued & tangin’
Colossal goddess of kitschadelia
Hack it, bitches!
All over the world, Juliette
Brings them to their knees
I see her knees need protection too
Lady Lewis, what do the voices say?
It’s so hard when your
Fifteen minutes are over. There is help for
You. Ask your doctor to change your meds.
oops…my browser crashed and I didn’t think it went through…
Red veil
Over face
Leads us to believe her
Lack of modesty stems from
Egregious inability to examine in the mirror.
Rules of hide and seek
Don’t apply to real life.
Even though Juliette’s face is blocked, the
Rest of us can still see her.
But we wish we’d thought to bring the Hefty Bag
Youch. My eyes.
Blushing, bleeding bride, how
Long have you waited to lift your veil?
Once an indie princess, now too
Old to act like this
Dressed for Tim Burton, angry-girl is so
Yesterday.
Winonna has moved on,
As should you, Juliette. What do you fear
Is going to happen to your knees? True
Love doesn’t require protective
Equipment. Wait for a groom who will
Respect your talent.
Were you in Salem, Massachusetts,
In the year 1692,
The smallest glimpse of a woman
Covered in purple leather and crow feathers –
Horrifying even without the blood-red shroud –
You wouldn’t get that gallows built fast enough!
Fear the crimson curse spewing like a veil o’er
Unlikely kneepads engaged with frantic tights.
Gloves in raven bridal lace doom the groom.
Taking the veil
Helped Juliette to her
Epiphany:
Lord,
I see now that
Cloaking myself in a blood fountain
Kinda seems like a
Sartorial veiled threat.
Spectacles of impossibility collide–
Consign your frame to fug’s sweet name,
An artifice of utility:
Ready for dodge ball, your padded knees
Fortify the stretch-Lycra temples of your legs.
O, Juliette, my heart screams, soul lost.
Net me tighter in the feathers and lace of
Your fascination! I become entrapped,
Overwhelmed, your tattered beauty tatters my
Universe. Your missing sleeve strips me
Raw, my soul’s right side torn loose.
Forever I am lost. Your beauty puzzles,
Always subtle as whispered plea,
Confounding me. Something remains an
Enigma. But what? Never will I know.
Just answer me this, miss:
Ugly case of chicken pox?
‘Like a Virgin’ tribute gone wrong?
Incredibly late on laundry day?
Evening marriage to the ruler of Mars?
Trying to get attention, Lohan-style?
Transforming INTO ‘Iron Maven’?
Every fug has a reason, what’s yours!?
There is something to be said
About the fact that Juliette Lewis is
Batsh!t crazy,
Legally insane,
Eccentric and
Really, probably
Unwashed.
Nevertheless,
Not even her past
Ensembles of a
Repurposed Vegas chorus line headdress,
Sequined Joan Collins’ jumpsuit,
And a fur coat recently mated with an ostrich
Really could have prepared us for an
Evening with a beveiled, purpled-striped
Nyloned
Outfit presumably influenced by
The collective works of 80′s
Hair band idol Brett Michaels, the “Whip It” cast, and Lady Gaga.
And reminds us all that red sheer
Tablerunners are not
Substitutes for hats.
{Torn Between Two [& a half] Playwrights, Feelin Like A Fool}
Salome is pissed.
Architectress-ancesstress of the veils, seven or seventy, even she understands
Lord knows, There are some things a father, whether king
Of whoever,
Matters not, simply does not ask one’s daughter to do.
Enter Juliette, EverReady, Everpresent, easing into her role as if born to butter.
Undone upstart of urgency, protected knees point downward, upward
New Romantique, you, never a moment needed left undulled
Depp as his perfect present, Pitt somewhere on the line, unpitted
O, whyfor art thou, Juliette, lost it seems
Nevermore, bickers the raven, as once you were
Evermore, answers back the wind, to dissolve, dissolute, in a sackcloth made from ungainly burning ashes, to titillate & torment the enuui’d onlookers
i forgot to sign the last one too.
yr tired,
polter-g
Barmy goddess of song
A wild woman without fear
Nutty songstress of scarf
Superego long gone
High as a kite, or so it seems
Eccentric as an English peer
Even so, Juliette, you wail
Over your bleeding death
Hate is purple like my tights
Hang the curtain on my head
One sleeve must suffice
Never to kneel to your wretchedness
Even though my knees scream for volleyball
You wretched f’ing, f’er- f-you!
No, I cannot sing
Outraged, I curse you.
Okay, that was me doing “ohhoneyno” above
Great Juliette, see it, yes,
Illuminated, perfect,
At last,oh,
Never again to fear the small, the silly, nor
The SWINTON
Violets, pinks and BLACK
Antagonism, oh Germanism!
Goddess of knee pads
Inside the Isis-
Nein, nein, YOU will never possess,
Amazons’ Flower, the Royal Rhubarb.
Juliette
Unless
Style
Transcends
Wrath
Refrain
OMG
Not
Good
Believe me, I would rather not
Address the bacon-colored veil.
Despite my love for breakfast, what
For would you don this fugging fail?
A feathered vest, one ruffled sleeve,
Some plumes of black and others red:
Here’s how it would look, I believe,
If Lady Gaga vomited.
Onto the leggings, I imagine
Ninjas from the future who,
Confronted with such awful fashion,
Have to commit seppuku.
Oh Juliette, I fear you’re sinking
Into madness just a touch.
Come on. I mean, what were you thinking?
Evidently, not that much.
Tonight
Onstage
Outrageous
Singing
Escaping
Xanthippe
Yes!
For
Only
Rare
Mysterious
You
Follows
A
Couture
Execrable
My gloves are matched correctly.
Ergo, it is acceptable that I
Sport one very lonely
Helena Bonham-Carter sleeve from
Under my Fraggle-capped shoulder,
Graced as it is by a moth-eaten
Gnu pelt that must have been a rejected
Element of a ’70s Vegas
Number designed by Bob Mackie. However,
Apropros of my decision to complement my
Hockey gear with steel-toed stilettos….
My gloves are matched correctly.
Ergo, it is acceptable that I
Sport one very lonely
Helena Bonham-Carter sleeve from
Under my Fraggle-capped shoulder,
Graced as it is by a moth-eaten
Gnu pelt that must have been a rejected
Element of a ’70s Vegas
Number designed by Bob Mackie. However,
Apropros of my decision to complement my
Hockey gear with steel-toed stilettos….
Knowing what
I saw and experienced with the
Cloistered nuns of the silent stiletto-I
Knew that
I had to escape immediately
Nothing in this universe was
Going
To
Halt my frantic
Escape to run on high to
Hail a cab
And finally
Bail from the secret order of nunnery rugby
I refuse to ever
Tithe
Oh Juliette, of early fame
Her angst and quirk in part to blame
How purple, ringed pants of shame
Offend me to the core!
No place to rest my eyes that night
Epaulets from hell flash in the light
Yet orangey vomit’s veil of might
Now kills me even more
Oh Juliette, you never bore.
{Torn Between Two [& a half] Playwrights, Feelin Like A Fool}
Salome is pissed.
Architectress-ancesstress of the veils, seven or seventy, even she understands:
Lord knows, there are some things a father [whether king
Of whoever
Matters not], simply does not ask one’s daughter to do.
Enter Juliette, EverReady, Everpresent, easing into her role as if born to butter.
Undone upstart of urgency, protected knees point downward, upward
New Romantique, you, never a moment needed left unsharpened
Depp, once at his perfect present; Pitt somewhere on the line, unpitted
O, whyfor art thou, Juliette, lost it seems?
“Nevermore,” bickers the raven, “as once you were.”
“Evermore,” answers back the wind, “to dissolve, dissolute, in a sackcloth made of ungainly burning ashes, to titillate & torment the enuui’d onlookers.”
{i figure if i am going to take part of my day to write a s e r i o u s poem about, of all people, juliette lewis, i should take an extra little quarter of a section of that time to punctuate it properly.
mea culpa. mea apologia.}
{Torn Between Two [& a half] Playwrights, Feelin Like A Fool}
Salome is pissed.
Architectress-ancesstress of the veils, seven or seventy, even she understands:
Lord knows, there are some things a father [whether king
Of whoever
Matters not], simply does not ask one’s daughter to do.
Enter Juliette, EverReady, Everpresent, easing into her role as if born to butter.
Undone upstart of urgency, protected knees point downward, upward
New Romantique, you, never a moment needed left unsharpened
Depp, once at his perfect present; Pitt somewhere on the line, unpitted
O, whyfor art thou, Juliette, lost it seems?
“Nevermore,” bickers the raven, “as once you were.”
“Evermore,” answers back the wind, “to dissolve, dissolute, in a sackcloth made of ungainly burning ashes, to titillate & torment the enuui’d onlookers.”
{i figure if i am going to take part of my day to write a s e r i o u s poem about, of all people, juliette lewis, i should take an extra little quarter of a section of that time to punctuate it properly.
mea culpa. mea apologia.}
Do not look at my face
Or I’ll just wail louder.
DO YOU HEAR ME???
GEEZ!!!
Even though
Ben Stiller wore my purple rubber outfit in
Almost every scene in Dodgeball,
La Lewis wears it better.
Like you didn’t already know that.
Do not look at my face
Or I’ll just wail louder.
DO YOU HEAR ME???
GEEZ!!!
Even though
Ben Stiller wore my purple rubber outfit in
Almost every scene in Dodgeball,
La Lewis wears it better.
Like you didn’t already know that.
Red made sense for a midlife veil,
Ergo she prepared with protective devices –
Does the carpet match the drapes, some may say
Really they should attend to the sad rollerblader
U know he needs more those pads that he gave her
Ms. Lewis listen for once in your life this man needs his gloves more than a wife!
Just hear me out Jules
U know how you’re channelling the whole
Looking like you’re being devoured by a curtain thing…
It’s…
Errrr…
Too much.
There, I said it.
Even your knee pads look embarrassed. Please don’t hurt me.
Bish please.
Unless you are Madonna,
retire the the “sexy veil.”
Quotidian efforts
always come up short.
Let us hide in our houses
If we find ourselves
Compelled to wear
Knee pads, lace, silk and feathers
Simultaneously
Forsooth, here is an actress with a Shakespearean name
Unusual and unsightly is her bonnet
Girl, it makes your head appear aflame
Lo, I am inspired to write a sonnet
In the New Romantiques band she plays
Eerie are the lyrics they compose
To find their equals in craze
Turn to Julie’s archive of clothes
Enclosed we see kneepads and gloves
Leather boots and tulle are frightening sights
Even Courtney freaking Love
Wouldn’t wear those striped purple tights
Iambic pentameter is missing, you complain?
Shhh, just enjoy Juliette being insane
*Alternatively, Shhh, or I will punch your brain*
Totally blinded by her curtain accessory
Rocking out to herself
Inspired by both bird and bug, the
People watching tried to warn her that the
Purple stripes weren’t all she should be worried about
It’s lucky she remembered those kneepads!
No one could have seen it coming, coz the
Girl isn’t used to this type of tripping
Red veil takes it just a little too far
Into the land of Gaga imitiation
Discretion may not be her strong suit.
Instead, she looks like laundry hung out to dry
Compulisively wearing mismatched layers
Ultimately, this is sweaty performance art.
Lavender leggings and kneepads?
On stage or not, this is overkill.
Unless Lady Gaga starts wearing jeans and tshirts
Should expect a lot more of this. Great.
What is the mad
Hatter doing in
Atrocious purple leggings?
Tsk, tsk!
The mantilla scarf-veil
Has seen better days
Egads!
Fug immemorial plus
Uber attention-seeking equals
Grotesqueness!
One of kind Jules
Zonked and wearing the wicked witch costume.
Green Lewis and Ham
Not on a stage.
Or on a screen.
Not in a cage.
Or any scene.
Her spirit may be inspiring,
Even if she’s no one harming,
Lewis still is quite alarming –
Likeable but never charming.
Need she? Must she?
Own this outfit?
No one has said,
“Oh, Jules drop it.”
Brad Pitt? that don’t impressin’ me much
Red Riding Hood can go suck it
Ivanka Trump’s worst wedding nightmare is such
Dear Devil whaddayathink of my outfit?
Excuse me darling, but that ain’t so hot
Zany sounds much more like it
I wonder, have you been smoking pot?
Lose those weirdo pants while your at it,
Look honey, what I’m tyring to tell you is…
Amen: thats one fugly-ass outfit!
Jesus! Why are you wearing this?!
Under the influence, you are
LSD in your system
It’s not 3004
Evil scientists, beware
Try hard alien chic
Those poor kneepads
Even Gaga is cringing
I’ve never seen a purple cow
Nor purple sheep nor monkey
Though purple leggings, those I vow,
Entrance this Lewis donkey.
No stylist having both her eyes
Should dress this girl so badly
Each item of her wardrobe vies,
Like fighters battling madly,
Your mind and taste to overturn
By shocking you or mayhap
Implying you might care to learn,
Zoolander-like, that this crap
Achieves the heights of avant-garde
Rebellious and free-thinking
“Repellent” is it’s calling card,
“Egregious,” “Nasty,” “Stinking.”
Those are the words that one should use
About this damned odd clothing.
So dumpy, fugly and abstruse
There’s nothing else but loathing.
Except continuous abuse….
Brad
Really
Avoided
Depressive
Psychosis
In
That
The
Escape
Saved
Countless
Agonizing
Periods
Eyeing
Disfunction
Brad
Really
Avoided
Depressive
Psychosis
In
That
The
Escape
Saved
Countless
Agonizing
Periods
Eyeing
Disfunction
Brad
Really
Avoided
Depressive
Psychosis
In
That
The
Escape
Saved
Countless
Agonizing
Periods
Eyeing
Disfunction
Jamming rocker, Juliette
Underneath her scarlet net
Like my purple tights? she asks
In her kneepad hides a flask
Every item has its place
The gloved fingers, one arm in lace
Try to have some sympathy
Everyone can clearly see
Little lady here can’t see
Exactly what she’s trying to be
Why is one arm bare, you ask?
Is symmetry too hard a task?
So much to know and yet unmask
Come on, Brad. Let’s get
Real. What’s
Angelina got that I don’t have? Oh! A
Zoo of kids, that’s what. Admit it…
You miss me. And my braids.
Now rip off my veil. I already put my kneepads
On. We can roll around to my rock jams. And
To Angie,
Stop pretending you don’t
Envy my
Xtreme fashion sense. Have
You not seen me on stage?
Or in the movies? I am a
Rock Goddess and
Cinematic Icon…
Or just crazy. But who cares? The
Other Sister is played on cable
Like twice a year.
I really want to be like Lady Gaga
No, really it seems like this look works for her.
Eveyone’s forgotten my name.
Everyones forgotten my music.
Damn them, they’ll see!
Another era of Julliete Lewis will rise!
Terror and chaos will reign!
Trouble will be the leading princible!
Every woman will wear my freaky burka thing!
No female shall escape it!
To the oval office!
I shall reign once again.
Oh, apparently, I never did reign.
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
You stammer on stage, yammering like a banshee queen
Cloistered by a veil you prance, a horrid sight unseen,
Unhinged by your failure as a rocker and an actress
Kindred spirit to a banshee, your top shaggy and unclean
Yet, there’s something that keeps us staring too
Perhaps it’s because you’re a runaway train wreck
Oblivious as we gawk at you as proud as a Oz-like flying monkey in a zoo
Only to find you unaware of the side-show that is you
Verily, one must ask: what’s
Eating you, Juliette? Why hide behind your
Invisibility cloak? You are no Harry Potter. You are
Lewis! Your rapturous splendours are unmatched.
Forsooth, be not
Absurd and be-veil’d.
Instead, reveal your pale face and
Love thine crazy beauty.
You stammer on stage, yammering like a banshee queen
Unhinged by your failure as a rocker and an actress
Cloistered by a veil, you prance, a horrid sight unseen,
Kindred spirit to a banshee, your top shaggy and unclean
Yet, there’s something that keeps us staring too
Perhaps it’s because you’re a runaway train wreck
Oblivious as we gawk at you as proud as a Oz-like flying monkey in a zoo
Only to find you unaware of the side-show that is you
Hello Ms. Lewis
Your drapes on your head.
“Strange days are here dude”
That’s what she said.
“Enough with the posing
Raw to the press
I hide my features
Caped and fearless.
All Kalifornia in
Leggings with pads,
Bitches, I’ll whip it
Like I have gonads.
I’m a natural born killer,
New old school spawn.
Don’t care if I can’t see at
Night, dusk or dawn.
Expressing my music, you don’t need a view.
Suck it, Academy! till you turn blue.
See, my stepmother is an alien, and I am too.”
Sorry, minor correction:
Hello Ms. Lewis
Your drapes on your head.
“Strange days are here dude”
That’s what she said.
“Enough with the posing
Raw to the press
I hide my features
Caped and fearless.
All Kalifornia in
Leggings with pads,
Bitches, I’ll whip it
Like I have gonads.
I’m a natural born killer,
New old school spawn.
Don’t care if I can’t see all
Night, from dusk to dawn.
Expressing my music, you don’t need a view.
Suck it, Academy! till you turn blue.
See, my stepmother is an alien, and I am too.”
Judge not, ye sinners,
Unless you yourselves wish to be judged. By me!
Lo, the scope of my fugitude
Is clear to all who stand before me (though perhaps not quite so clear to me,
Eyesight-less as I am behind my Curtain O’ Truth).
Thank you for asking, that may well be a parrot on my left shoulder. And yes,
Truly I am like a (moth-eaten) virgin, one yearning to roller blade in kitten heels.
Enough questions. A good audience is rather like a skin-tight purple jumpsuit: quiet.
Boring I am not! I’ll show
All of them! With my
Tights a stripe and feathers abundant,
Standing like an extra in the Thriller video,it’s
Hard to believe I once dated Brad.
It’s even harder that Carla
Tate seems more lucid than I. But but but
Curtains on your head is all the buzz now,
Right?
And just so you know, Gaga was inspired by my
Zany excuse of a wardrobe for all of
You claiming I copied!
Kansas is calling, Dorothy, and you
Need to get home, or
Else a house might fall on you!
Even worse than the East or the West,
Perhaps, is the other sister:
A corpse bride in Lohan leggings.
Don’t cross the Wicked Witch of
South by Southwest.
Curtains And LSD (a.k.a. bat shit crazy)
Can anyone tell me why
Underneath this window dressing
Red and crinkled
The room spins so?
And what good are knee pads
If my gossamer shirt has holes
No justice in this world!
So hear my words
And witness my stripped tights
Nameless audience
Save yourselves!
Let me point the way
See the light
Dream the impossible dream of feathered shoulder pads
BUTT UGLY
Because I can
Understand darlings
Tranny moments come
Tranny moments go
Uncomfortably numbed
Gleefully blinded by the tulle light
Long lasting notes ring into the night
Yadda Yadda Yadda