Fug File: not a shirt

WTFug: Lily Allen

I feel like I just stumbled back in time and into someone’s misguided LSD-fueled seance:

I mean, if you told me she was two seconds away from twirling and then singing “I Got You, Babe,” to a tree, I’d believe you.

And if you’re wondering whether this is as naked if she’s not lifting her arms:

warning: it is


Fug the Show: Olivia Wilde on That David Blaine Special

I totally got sucked into that David Blaine Wigs Out Celebrities And Also Some Regular People With Weird Freaky Stuff special; I’ve never had much time for Mr. Blaine, but the reactions of Aaron Paul and Kanye when he stuck a needle through his arm were pretty priceless, and Harrison Ford seemed so emotional and trembly and confused that I can only speculate what went on in order to get him to agree to let David Blaine in the house in the first place.

And then this happened:

THAT IS A STRAPLESS BRA. I don’t care if it’s secretly a bathing suit, or it’s sentient, or it dispenses Diet Coke (note: I might care about that a little bit). You did not stumble into a magic trick. You were not interrupted while lingerie shopping. You did not walk out onto your patio and find David Blaine there as part of his afternoon constitutional through people’s private lawns, snacking on twenty-dollar bills. YOU INVITED PEOPLE INTO YOUR HOME TO FILM YOU GETTING YOUR MIND BLOWN. PUT ON A F@$%KING SHIRT.

This F-bomb has been brought to you by the crabby sprite in my brain who wants to know why she later did a whole bit in a comfy sweater and shirt, but was unable to locate real clothes for this piece. Was EVERYTHING she owned in the washing machine? But still, guess what? We can’t tell. Wear something dirty. Maybe David Blaine can mind-clean it.

Edited to add: Apparently they were going to do a segment in a swimming pool, but didn’t. So I withdraw my partial f-bomb, PARTIALLY.  I still think if you’re doing a TV special at your house, which did not catch you by surprise and also means your full closet is at your disposal, I think the prudent thing to do would be to run up and grab a t-shirt, because you are not unfamiliar with how things look on TV and you probably know your bikini top looks like the nightmares people have about all their old strapless bras and really it costs you nothing to toss on something else… and ergo, that touched off all my latent aggro about how onmipresent she was not too long ago and how much she overshared about how often she and Jason Sudeikis had sex and I just wanted her to sit down for a second and then this happened. Sorry, Olivia. Kind of? Maybe this wasn’t at your house and you just wore this over in the car and didn’t have another option, possibly, maybe, perhaps? I stand by my shirt thing, though.

After the jump, I stuck a YouTube clip of the bra, plus that thing David Blaine does that wigs out Kanye, Aaron Paul, and Will Smith’s family. At some point Aaron just says, “Whyyyyy,” and yes, Woody Harrelson happens to be in Kanye’s apartment.

first comes Kanye


Chestily Played, Tricia Helfer

Oh my God, you guys.

There are some days when I desperately wish we were all hanging out, collectively, like in a villa on Lake Como, so that when a photo like this came through on the wire I could just rip it out of the fax machine (don’t ask me WHEN we’re all living) and race through Fug Compound, screeching. And then we’d all just gather round and SCREECH TOGETHER. BECAUSE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH.

[Photo: Getty]



Remember when Lady Gaga was almost completely missing in action? Yeah, neither do I, and it wasn’t even that long ago.

[Photos: Pacific Coast News, WENN]


Casual Fuggerday: Rihanna

Yeah, of course.

The main thing people want to look at while they’re eating lunch is their own stomachs. It would only be better if the restaurant were called Ultrasound and she could just watch lunch happen to her own insides.

[Photo: Pacific Coast News]


Little Fugsters

If I may borrow from Poltergeist II trailer:

They’re ba-aaaack.

[Photo: Splash]