It’s been over three years since I last solo-fugged Jenny Lewis of Rilo Kiley on this site (she got nailed once more in 2007, but she was being upstaged by the zombified lunacy of Milla Jovovich’s former business partner). The basic facts have not changed: I still love her music. I still fondly remember her from her youthful stint on Brooklyn Bridge. I still want to know whether “Does He Love You?”, a.k.a. the “Whoops, I Slept With My Best Friend’s Husband” song, is based on anything that actually happened. And I still scratch my head sometimes at what she puts on her adorable self.
It starts out fine — odd, a bit dishwater-colored maybe, but unremarkable either way. And then…
Please understand, I stared at this photo for twenty minutes trying to figure out what the hell is happening here. It seemed like a transparent sheath over some kind of flesh-toned unitard from hell, the likes of which I’d expect to see on a Cirque du Soleil acrobat, or one of the Whos down in Whoville, maybe. I gazed and I frowned and waxcrangled and blowned. And finally, RIGHT as I was about to type a lengthy bewailing of the noxious bodystocking, my eyes clicked into gear and I realized the illusion of a crotch under there actually comes from those lacy details that are sewn up the middle of the dress. So, on the pro side, Jenny Lewis is unlikely to hoist herself up by the seat of her pants and take leave of this place through a hole in the sky without leaving a trace, a la The Lorax, but on the con side, her moneymaker appears to be barfing ruffles. In all, still a tragedy, I think.


















@tbogg indeed, voila: 
The Fug Bunny
OH RUMER WILLIS. I can’t say I am a huge fan of yours, but I don’t have a cauldron full of hot, strong hate for you or anything. In fact, one could say I am neutral. Speaking of:
Dude.
No.
react: