Fugger: Carly Rae Jepsen

Carly Fug Jepsen


Carly Rae Jepsen had some trouble with the ceremonial first pitch the other night at a Rays game – indeed, it wasn’t so much a “pitch” as a “dribble.” But I would contend that her problems began earlier than that, in her dressing room:

Her upper half knows it’s at the ball park, but her lower half thinks the Tampa Bay Rays is the name of a fake team in a musical called Full Count, which combines all the sass of A League Of Their Own with all the poverty of Annie and, naturally, all the jazz-flecked murder of Chicago. Perhaps I should just be grateful they didn’t rename the team the Tampa Bay Raes for the day, and call it quits here and have some ice cream. Yes. Done.

[Photo: Getty]

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Fug Me Maybe


Do you think that when Carly Rae Jepson here is suck in traffic listening to “Get Lucky” on the radio for the 3rd time in 45 minutes, she thinks to herself, “that was ME last summer”? Ah, summer earworms, you make all of our heatwaves just a little bit catchier.

Speaking of hits, though, I fear this look is NOT one.

[Photo: Getty]

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Billboard Music Awards Fug Carpet: Black and White and WTF All Over


As more and more pictures rolled in, I finally snapped and e-mailed Jessica, “EVERYONE NAKED AND DUMB AT THIS THING.”

[Photos: Getty]

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Freaky Fug Friday: Carly Rae Jepsen


Well, Carly Rae Jepsen really loves her some leather short shorts, doesn’t she? These are almost like leather BIKE shorts, a phrase that must never pass my lips — or my keyboard — again:

[Photo: WENN]

THE TASK: Imagine that Carly Rae is singing an Ode to Shorts now. Name that tune. (Literally: give us the title — and only the title – of a fictional song that’s an Ode to Shorts.)

THE RULES: All entries must be posted in the comments of this post by 9 p.m. Pacific time on MONDAY.

THE PRIZE: We have three copies of the great new cookbook Classic Snacks Made From Scratch: 70 Homemade Versions of Your Favorite Brand-Name Treats. Per Amazon, “A cream-filled chocolate cupcake for dessert. Caramel popcorn while watching a movie. An ice cream sandwich on a hot summer day. What could be better than indulging in your favorite guilty pleasures? Having the fun and satisfaction of making them yourself with all-natural ingredients so they taste more delicious than the brand-name originals.”You know you want to know how to make Klondike Bars at home. And as someone who has sampled the homemade Cheezits from this very book, you NEED to be able to make them. They are awesome. This contest is open to all readers, so get to writing!

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Fug the Show(s): New Year’s Eve Countdowns


I was going to say, “I don’t know why I bother to watch these things,” but that would be a lie: I DVR them SPECIFICALLY so that we can all have a laugh at whatever hopeless shenanigans are passing for Exciting. New Year’s Eve. Entertainment. It’s like the universe wants to remind us all that the calendar may change, but fug is forever.

[Photos: Splash, my phone]

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Fug the Cover: Carly Rae Jepsen on Cosmopolitan


I thought Cosmo had an iconic repeated cover pose — hand on hip, etc. — but maybe I made that up, or the great Joanna Coles is changing that now that she’s swooped in to, presumably, rescue it from being a magazine that shouts things at vaginas.

They  might have been better off with The Pose, because now I can see her under-buttock — you know, that place where the curve of your thigh drifts out and becomes the curve of your cheeks. She’s also wearing a pattern that looks like swatch vomit, but worst of all, to me, is that they made Carly Rae Jepsen look strung out here. Or something; something is off. She definitely doesn’t look like herself; for a second I thought it was Michelle Monaghan — although, to be fair to Michelle Monaghan, my actual thought was, “Man, Michelle Monaghan loons strung out on that cover.” There’s just something terrible and wacky and unappealing about it to me, like she hadn’t slept in three days so they just leaned her against a green screen, asked her to look at them for a second, and Photoshopped out her smartphone. I wouldn’t want to have lunch with that person, much less spend $5 to bring her back to my house and get me all stressed out about why her eyes aren’t focusing.

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