Up until about two seconds ago, I was going to make this a Fug or Fab post. But then -- I don't know if it was the Jell-O cup I ate, the Cool Whip I put on top (I am apparently a slave to what Bob tells me during the product-placement scenes on The Biggest Loser), or the doorjamb I smacked my forehead into because I was so hopped up on chemical sweeteners that I forgot how to turn the corner into my hallway -- all of a sudden I decided that I really don't much care for what Miss Witherspoon is wearing:
Reese is a tiny, tiny person, which I can say with certainty based on first-hand experience with reading her IMDb page. She's under 5'2". So not only is this a lot more look than she usually sports, but it's REALLY a lot of look on her, full-stop. It's just sort of... messy and distracting, and cumbersome, and hell-bent on shoving her boobs into her armpits. The pattern on her chest reminds me of Alec Baldwin's crazy downy chest hair back when he had his shirt off all the time on Saturday Night Live and you would think to yourself, "Wait, why is Alec wearing a sweater under his shirt... oh, WAIT" -- although maybe that's the lemon-lime Jell-O talking? -- and I wouldn't be shocked at all if in ten seconds, she leaves to go perform a stirring castanets version of "Ave Maria" at a flamenco dancer's funeral. Which could be sort of fun, except for the mourning and the tragedy and all that. In fact, I have some big plastic maracas for my Wii; maybe she wants some accompaniment. We could go on tour. Jake Gyllenhaal could be our roadie, since I clearly need someone to set up the Wii, and once someone invents Accordion Hero we'd be completely unstoppable. UNSTOPPABLE.
Reese is a tiny, tiny person, which I can say with certainty based on first-hand experience with reading her IMDb page. She's under 5'2". So not only is this a lot more look than she usually sports, but it's REALLY a lot of look on her, full-stop. It's just sort of... messy and distracting, and cumbersome, and hell-bent on shoving her boobs into her armpits. The pattern on her chest reminds me of Alec Baldwin's crazy downy chest hair back when he had his shirt off all the time on Saturday Night Live and you would think to yourself, "Wait, why is Alec wearing a sweater under his shirt... oh, WAIT" -- although maybe that's the lemon-lime Jell-O talking? -- and I wouldn't be shocked at all if in ten seconds, she leaves to go perform a stirring castanets version of "Ave Maria" at a flamenco dancer's funeral. Which could be sort of fun, except for the mourning and the tragedy and all that. In fact, I have some big plastic maracas for my Wii; maybe she wants some accompaniment. We could go on tour. Jake Gyllenhaal could be our roadie, since I clearly need someone to set up the Wii, and once someone invents Accordion Hero we'd be completely unstoppable. UNSTOPPABLE.
