We can hardly believe this final game is here! And what a game it is: a beloved, nearly always semi-naked, multiple-personalitied  performer/blogger of great awesomeness  versus an erstwhile Spice Girl and lover of Beckham, spray tans, high heels, sunglasses and overall ferociousness.


Oh, BAI. Your archive gives us such great joy. Who can forgot this triad of deliciousness? Who can remain hard-hearted when faced with visual evidence of a great love affair with a Chewbacca in high-water pants? Who can look upon this and not feel certain that all is right in the world of fug?


That is what Rock of Love With Bret Michaels would wear if it woke up and realized it was actually a person rather than a television show. This is also rather fetching:


It’s like what you’d look like if you decided to dress as a pinata for Halloween, as costumed by Trashy Lingerie. And in many ways, Bai IS a Pinata of Fug: loud; extremely colorful; possibly sweet inside (we don’t know!);  fun at parties; takes a ton of hits but won’t give in; full of surprises; potentially not the classiest addition to an event; possibly dangerous; maybe partially constructed using chicken wire; and spends a lot of time hanging from the rafters.

And then there’s Maude. By which we mean Posh, who is just like Maude in scowling expressions and trail-blazing fierceness, if slightly more excessive in her displays of cleavage.


Victoria is  taped into that thing masterfully, and is so spit-shined and burnished, she might as well pull a few shifts at Madame Tussaud’s when her own wax mannequin needs to take a mental-health day. And she clung to those hair extensions far beyond their expiration date, bless her; I’ve seen better manes on my old My Little Pony collection, and those poor things have been lying on top of each other in a box for twenty years.

And, akin to Bai, our girl Vicky isn’t afraid of animal print.


It’s just WRONG when Victoria Beckham wears something that’s two parts Bai Ling and two parts Courtney freakin’ Peldon. This isn’t worthy of one who is so committed to the very priciest fuggery, and Posh is nothing if not prepared to invest in her art. Off the rack is one thing; off the top of the “FETISH SAFETY: WATERPROOF, FIREPROOF” bin at Biff’s Ho Palace is another. Not cool, Spicefrau. Not cool.