Heidi Fugtag

Con: I am writing about Heidi Montag.

Pro: I am FINALLY writing about Heidi Montag for something that doesn’t involve her sticking her tongue down her odious husband’s throat and/or canoodling with him for the paparazzi on a bed in an otherwise sanitary furniture store/in a restaurant/at the 99 Cent store.

[Photo: FayesVision/WENN.com]

All that oppressive dark fabric, with the heavy sleeves that eat her arms and appear to weigh down her shoulders, give her the rather satisfying appearance of slowly melting, like our own personal Wicked Witch of the West Coast. In fact, if someone wouldn’t mind tossing a bucket of water onto her to see if it finishes the job, that’d be great. Consider it: Either nothing happens but she gets sopping wet and starts shrieking like a banshee while flapping the sodden, weighted-down arm prisons that her sleeves would become, or she actually DOES disappear. Tell me THAT’S not a win-win proposition.