My Lovely Lady Fugs

So…does this glum look mean that marriage isn’t agreeing with Fergie Ferg?

The dress is fine, albeit bizarrely crunched up in seemingly random places. The shoes, I’m sure, cost some wicked ridiculous amount, despite essentially being kind of hideous and involving the use of sweatbands for ankle straps, but I can take a lot of stupidity in a shoe, for some reason. Perhaps because they’re so small and far away from my face. But speaking of faces: girl, this hair is not good with yours. Don’t get upset. I can’t do the super straight, flat-ironed, center part thing, either. It makes me look like my face is the size of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man’s. But suddenly, you’re bearing a weird resemblance to Priscilla Presley, and while she was once a beautiful woman, my guess is that’s not exactly what you’re going for. What I’m saying, princess, is that you need a little softness around ye olde facial area. And maybe a smile: I’m concerned that your crabby visage here is going to show up in a tabloid under the headline, “Fergie And Josh: Honeymoon PAIN,” after which the magazine will propose that you guys are on the autobahn to splitsville. When really maybe you just forgot to set the TiVo for Intern George’s Triumphant Return to ER. That’d make anyone cranky.